


Druid in Blue

by Rahar_Moonfire



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Altean Lance (Voltron), Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Keith doesn't know how to handle feelings, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, Lance is a Druid, Lance is the blue paladin, M/M, Mixed up loyalties, blue lion likes her druid paladin, druid!Lance, klance, space mice - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2018-12-29 17:46:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 56
Words: 192,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12090168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rahar_Moonfire/pseuds/Rahar_Moonfire
Summary: When Sendak captured the Castle of Lions, he had a Druid with him. When Sendak was defeated, the Druid wasn't with him. Now Lance is stuck trying to figure out how to juggle his new life as the paladin of the Blue Lion, his duties as an Altean Druid of the Galra Empire, and his growing infatuation for the paladin of the Red Lion. Keith.Quiznak his life. He just wanted something to eat, not a freaking Lion and a lover. Maybe. Possibly. ...definitely...NaNoWriMo 2017 winner!Chapter 56 summary:In which Lance gets to show off, gains new passengers, and realizes he will doanythingto protect his home, something Blue wholly agrees with.





	1. It Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sendak loses an invasion and a Druid named Lance is left behind.

“Commander Sendak, the sentries are in position around the Arusian village.”

Sendak grinned. “It appears luck is on our side,” he said. “Look at them, Haxus. One minor victory and they lower the Castle’s defenses and throw the doors wide open. Fools,” he scoffed. “With so many of those sniveling creatures going in and out, it will be nothing to infiltrate.”

“We may not have to,” Subcommander Haxus muttered in mild surprise. “The small one in armor has a Galra drone they’ve repurposed.” He grimaced, reluctantly impressed. “If I can get close enough, I should be able to clone its signature code and send in a bomb in one of the identical units recovered from the crash. With all the commotion, it should pass undetected”

“I knew you would not disappoint me,” Sendak said, pleased. “Take the Druid with you. It will get you close enough to complete your duty. Save your strength for any resistance attempts.”

“Yes sir,” Haxus said reluctantly, eyeing the cloaked and masked figure standing silently behind his commander in distrust.

* * *

 

They waited until the entrance to the Castle was dark and silent before marching in. It appeared the diversion at the Arusian village was more efficient than Haxus expected. The paladins of the three active Lions left the Castle completely undefended. The commander was right. They were fools.

Haxus glanced over his shoulder to be sure the power crystal recovered from their destroyed battlecruiser was still active. If the crystal lost enough power before he and Commander Sendak managed to incorporate it into the Castle’s system, then this whole venture would be worthless. The drones marched around the glowing purple crystal in formation and there was no sign of anyone approaching from the rear of their procession. Although, Haxus was certain if any attack did come from the rear, that Druid would end it before it ever became an issue.

Frell those creepy monsters.

“Well, well,” Sendak said, amusement lacing his words. “If it isn’t the Champion himself.”

Haxus turned back to his commander curiously, scowling when he saw a lone figure in black and white armor.

“Returning to the fold so soon?” Sendak asked.

“Go to hell,” the paladin hissed angrily.

Only Sendak’s raised arm prevented Haxus from disemboweling the fool for insulting his commander.

“Stand aside, Champion,” Sendak ordered, “and you will be spared.”

“Not happening,” the Champion snapped, shifting to a battle stance.

“Then I’ll make you.”

Haxus didn’t bother to intervene. A battle between Commander Sendak and the Champion might be well matched, but quite frankly the commander was stronger and more resilient. He also had the latest Druidic upgrades to his mechanical left arm. The Champion’s weaponized hand might be formidable in the gladiator arena, but it was pathetic compared to the sheer size and power of Sendak’s.

Still, it was close.

The Champion stopped Sendak’s weapon with his own glowing purple fist and held the Galra commander in place. Haxus had to admit, it was an impressive display. If this was the arena, he probably would have enjoyed watching the outcome, however inevitable it may be. Unfortunately, he never had the satisfaction.

A bolt of purple-tinged white blasted past Haxus, missing his shoulder by a hand, and struck the Champion square in the back, stunning but not killing.

“That was unnecessary,” Sendak hissed, banking his fury.

The Druid merely shrugged.

Frell, Haxus hated Druids.

* * *

 

He hated Haxus. Alright so maybe ‘hate’ was a strong word. But, quiznak, it was the _right_ word. He tried to warn the subcommander of the saboteur’s presence high on the wall of the main engine room, but did he listen? No. Now Haxus was dead, Sendak was very likely dead, and he was still incapable of moving without twitching.

He could feel the lingering effects of the power surge and resulting overload from the turbine in his fingers and toes. He had to admit, that stupid green paladin was clever. Hardly the fool Sendak thought. Well, not a complete fool anyway. Getting rid of Haxus was a good move, but leaving him alive on the catwalk in the engine room? Foolish. He would wager ‘stupid beyond comprehension’ fit best.

Unless the green paladin simply missed him. That was a possibility. When the turbine overloaded and electrocuted him -he still held a grudge for that, by the way- he’d been blown back nearly to the edge of the catwalk surrounding the glowing, Altean-built turbine. Maybe the paladin really _had_ missed him. Dealing with Haxus could easily have taken a lot of concentration. Not to mention the paladins didn’t seem to work well in low lighting. In the dim engine room, the brilliant turbine would have been blinding. It had certainly blinded him.

Whatever the reason, he was still alive and nobody had noticed. Yet.

Not that he was complaining. He liked being alive and the green paladin’s moment of stupidity or blindness or distraction or _whatever_ had made sure he stayed alive. He just fervently wished he’d been _awake_ when the paladins staged their counterattack and defeated Sendak. Maybe he could have turned the tables on those idiots.

But he hadn’t been awake and now he was suffering for it. Frell it all, he was hungry, thirsty, he felt like his bladder was going to explode and _frak_ this ventilation shaft _stank!_ Honestly, did no one bother with the upkeep of their ships these days? This was downright ridiculous. Who wanted ventilated air circulating the entire ship when it smelled like feet and wet Galra? Disgusting.

It was hot too. He must be in one of the heated vents now. Oh well, at least the heat wasn’t on full like the cooling vents. He’d nearly frozen his ears off in there. He swore his mask had even started to frost over.

Now he was hot, sweating, stuck in a warm, stinky ventilation shaft in his Druidic robes and mask staring longingly out the hatched opening at the Castleship’s mess hall. That green goop those paladins were eating was looking more and more appealing with each passing turn. Why didn’t they just leave already!? He was hungry, frak it, and he still needed to relieve himself.

He sulked, curling up in a miserable ball of brown robes.

If he could just slip past their guards long enough to pee, and maybe snag some of that goo to eat, then he could go back to slinking through the ventilation shafts. The stinky ventilation shafts. The stinky ventilation shafts that were dead set on either melting him or freezing him solid.

He may or may not have whined.

It was so hot.

He couldn’t take it anymore. His face was melting behind the bone mask. He loosened the straps and slipped the mask up so his face was bare to the warm breeze. It wasn’t much relief but at least he didn’t feel like his nose was going to drip off in a puddle of sweaty Druid goo.

Maybe he would go back to the colder air vents. He may not enjoy freezing, but at least he could think clearer in the cold. Heat tended to get to him quicker than cold. Haggar always said he tended to favor the cold when utilizing the elemental nature of quintessence.

Decided, he pulled his mask down over his face and began crawling back to the nearest cool air shaft. Who knows? Maybe he could even find a bathroom or something along the way. That would be nice. Maybe the bathroom would even have a mirror.

On second thought, maybe a mirror wouldn’t be the best idea right now. He would bet every bit of GAC he had that he looked awful. He could feel his dark brown hair already getting oily from not washing it in three days, his lips were chapped, and he no doubt had purple circles under his blue eyes. He needed a shower. A good, long shower.

And food.

And a bathroom.

So hot.

“Keep moving, Lance,” he muttered under his breath, too tired to care that he was talking to himself. “Just keep moving.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N:** I should not be doing this. It was just too tempting.


	2. Blows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lance is bored, gets blown away, and suddenly wants boring back.

“We still need to retrieve the Blue Lion before we can help the Balmera,” the Princess said, studying the readouts on the bridge's view screens.

“But how are we going to move it with its shield up?” the green paladin, Pidge asked.

Pidge. What a weird name.

“Do we have a tractor beam like that Galra battlecruiser?” the yellow paladin asked curiously.

“I’m afraid not,” Coran, the crazy, orange mustache guy, said.

Honestly, what was with that mustache? Lance was ready to swear it was a creature living on the man’s lip and not a real mustache.

“You’ll all have to dredge it up from the sea floor with nets,” Coran continued.

“How are we going to reach it if it’s underwater?” the Champion asked, stepping closer to the readouts hovering over the Princess’s control pedestal.

Lance couldn’t help the small flinch whenever he heard the Champion’s voice. Haggar had claimed the Champion as her own personal experiment and all the Druids knew better than to mess with Haggar’s things. Lance respected the most powerful Druid alive, but he wasn’t stupid. He’d sooner die than be in the same room alone with her.

Although, his blue gaze dropping to the Champion’s Druid-designed arm hungrily, he wouldn’t mind poking that. For such a little thing, it packed enough quintessence-backed force to stop and hold Commander Sendak’s newer arm. That, in and of itself, was worth Lance’s attention.

And he’d missed the whole conversation. Quiznak.

He sighed in annoyance. This is why he wasn’t a Master yet. He was too easily distracted by things. It wasn’t his fault everything was so boring. The Galra were all the same. Smash this! Blast that! Build this! Torture that!

So. Boring.

He let his chin sink into his nest of folded arms on the vent floor and sighed. His legs kicked back and forth absently in boredom. The bone mask he’d pushed up his head so he could see clearly was slipping again but Lance didn’t really care. Until it fell over his face effectively blinding him. Then he cared.

Muttering, he pushed the mask back up and out of the way again so he could see the bridge, and stiffened. They were gone. Everyone was gone. Quiznak, where did they go? Wait. Calm down and listen. Lance had gotten used to tracking the small crew living in the Castle by their voices. They weren’t quiet.

They teased each other, pulled pranks, trained, messed up fantastically -there had been several times when Lance had to leave them to their own devices or risk giving himself away from his cackles- or just talked. The Princess and the Champion were apparently the leaders of this little mismatched group, but even they had their moments of goof-ups. That one time the whole group instigated a particularly dramatic food fight would be forever ingrained in Lance’s head.

Actually, it was in that moment when Lance realized he wanted that. He missed it; the camaraderie between equals. He missed having someone to talk to, someone to tease and prank and train with. He missed… people. Watching people was amusing for a little while, but Lance needed interaction. He craved it.

The relative quiet and lack of interaction in the vents was beginning to wear on his mood. Grumbling in low tones, he pushed himself up, promptly bonking his mask on the roof of the ventilation shaft, knocking it back down over his face. That would leave a bump. He groaned a bit more loudly than he probably should have and clamored back through the shaft.

All this crawling and climbing was giving his hands and knees calluses. He hated calluses. They always started as friction burns or blisters which was bad enough. But the rough skin afterwards? Disgusting. No one liked rough skin. If he was interested in rough skin, he would have approached a Galra.

Frak, just the thought of that made him gag. He’d be quiznaked before he spread his legs for a Galra. Fur or scales, neither were very attractive in his opinion. Some of those ears though… So fluffy!

He arrived at one of the wide, vertical vent intersections and listened. There was a faint rumble from far below. Wait. Was it… Was it coming _closer?!_

“What the-!”

Too slow!

A blast of hot air punched him in the everything and up he flew, screaming the whole way. Garbled in those screams were words that would probably make even a seasoned Galra Fleet Commander like Sendak look at him sideways. Then, just as suddenly as the blast started, it stopped and down he fell, again, screaming the whole way.

One of his desperately pinwheeling arms smacked the side of the air vent and his seeking fingers latched onto a ladder rung. He grunted when his shoulder took the brunt of his full body weight jolting him to a stop. His other hand lashed out and gripped another ladder rung saving his face from a smashing into another rung by a mere tick.

Frak, those Lions must be taking off. He’d forgotten how close he was to the Lions’ hangers and launch bays. The backwash of the takeoff must’ve been funneled through the vents. He’d have to remember that for next time.

He whimpered. Please don’t let there be a next time.

He hung from the ladder rungs for several ticks so he could regain control of his racing heartbeat.

“I did not sign up for this,” he gasped, heaving himself up into the nearest horizontal vent.

He didn’t even bother to crawl away from the intersection. He just slumped to the floor in a limp puddle of Druid.

“I wasn’t trained for this,” he whined. “This was just supposed to be a temporary assignment. Just ride on the commander’s battlecruiser for a few cycles on my own before going back home. I was _not_ supposed to be blown apart and crash land on some quiznak-foresaken planet,” he pushed himself up to his hands and knees, “get blown up _again_ and even _electrocuted_ this time by a green, sabotaging maniac,” he pulled himself forward despite his entire body shaking like a leaf from adrenaline, terror, and relief, “and I was _not_ supposed to get stuck in an maze of vents that like to blow me up _and_ down _again!”_

Hot tear tumbled down his face. Forget following those color-coded idiots. Forget the color-matching Lions. Forget the stupid, flying Castle, forget his duty as a loyal Druid of the Galra Empire, forget this whole nonsensical insanity. He pounded a quivering fist on the metal surface beneath him.

“Frak everything, I just want _to go home!”_

* * *

 

“Did you hear something?” Shiro said, tilting his head up to the high ceiling of the main hanger.

“Hmm?” Coran said, turning to the black paladin. “What do you mean?”

Shiro shook his head slowly. “I thought I heard…”

“Shiro?” Princess Allura said, placing her hand on Shiro’s shoulder in concern. “What is it?”

“I could swear I heard a voice,” Shiro said. “Or, at least I think it was a voice. It sounded like a scream.”

Allura frowned. “There shouldn’t be anyone else in the Castle now except for us,” she said, looking up at the vents. “But after Sendak, we can’t be too careful. I'll have my mice search the Castle just in case. It would put my mind at ease and it would give them something to do.”

“Thanks,” Shiro said, flashing the princess a grateful smile. “It’s probably nothing, but just in case-”

“Better safe than sorry,” Allura said briskly. She crossed her arms over her chest in a self hug. “Sometimes paranoia is a good thing.”

The black paladin smiled sheepishly before turning his attention to the large hanger door on the far wall, sealed shut. He came down here at least once a day and just listened. He could feel the Black Lion’s presence behind that door. It was like a pull that never stopped tugging him towards it or a steady wind that insisted on blowing him off the sidewalk.

“Do you think this’ll work?” he asked.

Allura sighed. “I don’t know,” she said honestly. “I hope it does. When all of the Lions get here, the seal on the Black Lion should break. But without a paladin for the Blue Lion…”

“It’s a game of chance,” Shiro said, nodding.

“We need Voltron to fight the Galra on an even playing field,” Coran said wearily. “The five Lions alone are powerful, together they’re unstoppable. But with only four Lions-”

“Three if the Black Lion’s seal isn’t broken,” Shiro added.

“Yes," Coran sighed. "With only three Lions and the Castle as backup, we’ll have a chance against a few Galra battlecruisers, but against Zarkon…”

The advisor didn’t need to continue. They were all painfully aware of the situation they were in. Pidge, Hunk, and Keith barely managed to defeat Sendak’s battlecruiser when it was the only enemy ship in the vicinity with their Lions even with Shiro helping in a small Altean pod. Defeating a whole fleet of battlecruisers would be a gamble at best, suicide at worst.

“We’ll find a way,” Allura said firmly, her mouth set in a grim line. “We have to.”

No one spoke for several ticks.

“Erm, should I worry about the others trying to bring the Blue Lion back here on their own without supervision?” Allura asked wryly.

Shiro winced.

"We'll have a better view from the bridge," Coran said, moving to the lift with Shiro and the princess trailing behind.

* * *

 

It took forever to find his way back to the air vent with the best angle of sight over the bridge. He still needed to find his bone mask which fell when he was so rudely blasted by takeoff backwash, but that wasn’t as pressing as finding a way home.

Lance wanted out.

Maybe it was the endless maze of seemingly inescapable vents getting to him, or maybe it was the continuous attempts to blow him to bits, or maybe he was just quiznaked and no longer gave a frak about patience. Whatever. He wanted out. He wanted to go home.

He probably should’ve attempted this days ago, but he’d been too interested in _not being caught_ to try something this daring. No one was on the bridge at the moment, but he knew better than to immediately hop out into the open. People like Coran tended to forget things and come back to retrieve them at inopportune moments. The experiences of one too many Masters catching him in the middle of attempting a new trick weighed on his mind.

He could not be caught.

He needed to go home.

So he waited a full thirty ticks before working the screws holding the vent cover in place loose. Quintessence work like this required patience and precision. His fingers were the gun, the quintessence was the bolt, and the screw was the target. He never missed a target.

Four screws clinked to the floor far below but his grip on the vent cover prevented it from following with a louder clatter. Tucking the cover against the vent wall, he wriggled out of the opening and looked down. It was a good ten span drop to the bridge floor, easy. If he let himself free fall, the result would be a sprained ankle at best and a broken leg or two at worst. He could afford the first, but not the latter.

If only he was good at sustained levitation. Pursing his lips, Lance took a deep breath through his nose and pushed himself the rest of the way out. He tucked his head and torso mid-fall so his body flipped and slowed his descent with what little levitation skills he could conjure so he landed on the bridge floor right side up.

He didn’t stick the landing though and the sharp pain zinging up his right leg was proof of that. A pained cry escaped his lips before he could stop it. That ankle was definitely sprained. So much for his dreadful levitation skills.

Lance swallowed back tears and limped to the main pedestal underneath the Castelship’s giant Balmeran crystal. He waited for the control columns on either side of the pedestal to rise before placing his hands on them. The curvature of the hand rests fit his palms comfortably as the holographic displays and view screens came to life. The view of the expanse of space was definitely more beautiful from down here than from the vents along the walls by the ceiling.

Unfortunately, he didn’t have much time to admire the view. Crazy Mustache, the Princess, or worse, the Champion could walk onto the bridge at any moment. He had to be quick.

Balancing his weight between his right hand and his left leg, Lance reached up and typed in the contact codes for the first Galra officer he could think of. When he finally received the indication of a confirmed connection, he breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

 _“Who is this?”_ the Galra on the view screen demanded.

Lance opened his mouth to speak, then slammed it shut. Druids weren’t supposed to speak outside of certain circumstances. Besides, he knew his voice sounded young, too young to be taken seriously by someone as high up in rank as Subcommander Thace. Best to play it safe.

He watched as yellow eyes focused on his brown hooded and cloaked form and widened in shock.

 _“Druid,”_ Thace murmured warily.

Good. Even without his mask visible, Lance’s station was acknowledged. Without speaking, Lance uploaded the Castleship’s current coordinates as well as the crew’s plans to visit a Balmera and prepared to transmit the data to the subcommander. He had no way of knowing which Balmera, but hopefully Thace could figure it out.

He hesitated before sending the message. Should he? He shouldn’t. He would regret it.

Frak it.

He typed a brief message, attached it to the data, and sent it. The instant he received confirmation of the receipt, Lance cut the connection. The last thing he saw was a look of surprise on Subcommander Thace’s face before the view screen went black.

Now he had to figure out how to get back into the vents with a sprained ankle and without getting caught. He staggered away from the pedestal and stared up at the vent high on the wall. He really should have thought this through better. There was no way for him to successfully climb up the wall with his ankle in its current state. He could levitate up, but the resulting migraine and nosebleed would be too big of a problem to deal with.

A flashing light caught his attention.

Quiznak. Someone was using the lift!

He had to get out of sight now or they’d kill him. But where…

The lift.

It was worth a try.

But first, he scanned the bridge for the four screws from the vent cover and found three. Only three. He spent precious ticks frantically looking for the fourth screw before finally giving up and hobbling to the lift doors.

Focusing his quintessence in his fingers, he crafted nails of purple-tinged light which he wedged into the crack between the doors. The rush of air inside the lift shaft pushed up by the rising lift whistled through the crack, aiding him somewhat. Once he had a grip, he pulled the doors far enough apart to slip between them.

He could see the lift rising through the shaft two levels below him and held out a foot. The instant, the lift roof touched his foot, Lance leaned, put all his weight on that foot, and saw white.

He barely caught himself on the shaft’s far wall and slid to the ground as the lift beneath him came to a stop. Had he been a tick later, his leg would have been crushed and possibly severed by the moving lift, if he’d been lucky. As it was, he didn’t feel lucky.

He hadn’t even thought about using his stronger right leg to launch himself onto the lift. The searing agony causing him to bite hard into his left arm to muffle his screams was definitely not from a mere sprain. He must have fractured his leg as well as sprained his ankle in that botched landing. Since he’d avoided putting too much weight on it until now, the fractured bone remained in its proper place.

From what he could feel now, the bone had shifted. He had no way of knowing how far or how serious the break was. He was certain it hadn’t broken the skin, but that didn’t make it better. All that meant was he didn’t have to worry about caring for an open wound and fighting a potential infection. He did have to figure out how to get off this quiznak-foresaken lift, back into the air vents, and hide until Subcommander Thace tracked the Castle down and captured it.

Then he would be free. He could get the medical care he knew he needed and go home. He missed his family.

Slowly, carefully, he released his arm from his mouth and focused on breathing. He braced himself on his hands and knees like he had for the past several days, taking care to keep as little weight on his injured right leg as possible.

Think of something else. Anything else. Anything but the pain. Breathe and distract.

Alright. He couldn’t move the lift from up here so he would have to wait for someone else to board it and take it to a different floor. Preferably a lower floor. There were more vents further down to help keep the engine cool and circulate air into the main living quarters.

The living quarters would be the best deck for him to reach, so long as no one was there to see him. The next best was the hanger bays. The vents on both of those levels tended to be near the floor. He didn’t feel like standing right now. He wasn’t sure he even could stand.

He needed water.

His stomach growled and he groaned, wrapping an arm around his very empty belly. The green goo he’d eaten the other day wasn’t enough to last him much longer unless he rested. He would have to find his filched bottle of water as soon as possible. That would take the edge off.

He should also probably replace the bridge’s vent cover and screws. Hopefully, no one would find the missing fourth screw on the floor or notice the gaping hole where the cover should be. That would be hard to explain.

Come to think of it, his mask was still missing too. It must have blown off in the launch backwash earlier. He would have to find that too. The last thing he needed right now was to be caught because some snoopy paladin found his mask and remembered they never made sure a Druid’s body was actually dead and not just unconscious.

Blessedly, the lift made a muffled ding and began moving downwards. He would get off at whatever level above the one it stopped at, pry the doors open, and slip into the nearest vent.  As soon as he was hidden, he could crawl back to his makeshift nest in the vent nexus closest to the living quarters level where the air flow was typically at a tolerable temperature and get some much deserved rest.

He should probably set that bone too.

This was too much. He wanted boring back.


	3. Fallible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Thace delivers a portion of the news, Keith is pissed, and Lance is not looking forward to this.

The connection was cut before Subcommander Thace had a chance to fully grasp the implications of the Druid’s message. He didn’t recognize the Druid at first without its signature bone mask, but those robes and eerie silence were unmistakable.

However, that message was anything but silent. It was impressive how much could be communicated in so few words.

_"Aboard Castle of Lions. All Lions accounted for. Only three active. Headed to a Balmera. Sendak dead. Alone. Injured. Hiding. Take me home."_

Dead? Commander Sendak was dead? Commander Sendak was one of Emperor Zarkon’s most trusted commanders in the entire Galra military. Dead? What could possibly have happened to kill him? The last Thace heard, Sendak had captured the Castle of Lions and was in the process of flying it to the Emperor’s stronghold.

Granted, no one had heard from him since that transmission, but everyone knew flying an unfamiliar ship took careful planning. The Castle of Lions was ancient, predating the emperor himself. It wouldn’t be unusual for retrieving something so old and probably glitchy to take a while.

But dead?

Then there was that last part of the message. Druids kept their own council and answered directly to the witch Haggar who had Emperor Zarkon’s ear. They were difficult to handle on their own. It regularly took a group of well-trained Galra to take down a lone Druid at the best of times. If a Druid was injured, they rarely admitted it and never sought aid from the Galra medics if they could avoid it. They preferred their own kind.

For a Druid to not only admit to an injury but _hide_ and somehow sneak a message to the Empire requesting aid was impressive enough, if highly unusual. But what surprised Thace the most was the very last bit of the short message.

_Take me home._

Personal messages were frowned upon in the Galra Empire. The Druid must be much younger and possibly more inexperienced than Thace originally thought. Those robes hid much of the Druid’s body so as far as the subcommander knew, the Druid could very well be a child. For some reason, that idea disturbed him more than he thought it would.

Not to mention the fact the Druid was still hiding. That meant the Castle of Lions was not under the Druid’s control but someone else’s. Someone strong enough to force a Druid into hiding. Even an injured Druid was a threat. Some Galra would argue an injured Druid was the most dangerous. They stopped playing and started killing.

 _Too many unknowns_ , Thace thought as he strode confidently onto the battlecruiser’s bridge.

“Commander Prorok,” he said loud enough for his commanding officer to hear him. “I received information that requires your immediate attention.”

“Indeed,” Prorok said, turning to his second with interest.

“Commander Sendak is dead,” Thace said without preamble. The stunned gasps from the other Galra in the vicinity filled the room. “A Druid is on board the Castle of Lions but unable to maintain control of it due to a potential injury,” he continued, sure he had everyone’s full attention. “Before severing the connection, the Druid managed to send me the current coordinates of the Castle. It’s apparently enroute to a Balmera, no specifications as to which.”

“Lieutenant,” Prorok shouted to a Galra officer stationed at the nearest navigation computer, “scan the space around the coordinates Subcommander Thace gives you and narrow down the location of every Balmera in the vicinity.”

“Vrepit sa, sir!” the haggard lieutenant said, frantically inputting the coordinates handed to him by the subcommander. “Initial scans only show one Balmera in that sector. Balmera X-95 Vox.”

“Good,” Prorok said with a grin. “Have Commander Ylvik’s Fleet set a course for the Balmera. Capturing Voltron and the Castle of Lions is his main priority.”

“Sir,” Thace said, stepping forward. “There’s more. The Druid reported that although all of the Voltron Lions were accounted for, the paladins are unable to actually form Voltron.”

Stunned, Prorok’s golden eyes widened. “What?” he gasped. “Then how…”

-was Sendak defeated? The words may have been silent, but everyone heard them.

Thace shook his head. “I don’t know,” he admitted reluctantly. “Apparently, even though they have all the Lions, only three are in active use.”

“And yet they still managed to defeat Commander Sendak,” Prorok murmured. His forehead creased in thought. “Then they shouldn’t be underestimated.”

Thace said nothing, but the slight tilt of his head was agreement enough.

“I’ll report this to the emperor,” Prorok said. “Continue to monitor the situation. If you receive any more messages from the Castle of Lions, report them to me immediately.”

“Yes sir,” Thace said. “What of the Druid, sir?”

“What about it?” Commander Prorok said warily.

“Should we inform Haggar of the situation?” Thace said.

The commander grimaced. “I doubt she won’t know anything the emperor does,” he said. “But I’ll mention it. Better to let those things deal with their own.”

 _Better them than us, indeed_ , Thace thought wryly.

“You have your orders, Thace,” Prorok said.

“Vrepit sa, sir,” Subcommander Thace said, saluting. Without another word, he turned and left the bridge. This would be interesting.

* * *

_“Anything?”_ Hunk called hopefully through the Yellow Lion’s loud speaker.

“Maybe we should wait a little longer for the Black Lion to notice all the other Lions are present,” Keith said.

 _“Or we just accept that because the Blue Lion doesn’t have a pilot yet, the Black Lion isn’t coming out,”_ Pidge said.

“We can’t give up hope,” Keith said fiercely. “We’ve come this far. I’m not going to give up just because we basically have a weak Wi-Fi connection.”

Pidge’s snickers carried over the radio. _“Good one, Keith,”_ she said.

 _“He has his moments,”_ Hunk added, his grin audible in his voice.

 _“Paladins,”_ Allura said, cutting into the conversation. _“Please be quiet while Shiro tries to connect with the Black Lion.”_

 _“R-right, sorry,”_ Hunk said, chastened.

The silence hung heavy in the main hanger bay. Standing alone on the hanger floor was Takashi Shirogane, the paladin chosen by Princess Allura to pilot the Black Lion. Keith in his Red Lion, Hunk in the Yellow Lion, and Pidge in her Green Lion stood behind Shiro in full support of their friend and team leader. The Blue Lion, however, remained silent and still behind its shining blue particle barrier.

Thus, the door sealing the Black Lion in the Castle remain shut.

 _“It’s no use,”_ Shiro said, sounding weary. _“I can feel the Black Lion’s presence, but I can’t… It’s like something’s blocking me.”_

_“Um, that would probably be the hanger door.”_

“Pidge, this is serious,” Keith snapped, his grip on his Lion’s controls tightening. “If Shiro can’t free the Black Lion, he can’t pilot it. If he can’t pilot it, then we’re still down two Lions and we still can’t form Voltron.”

 _“Sorry, man,”_ Pidge said in mild irritation. _“But I have to find humor in this somehow or I’ll have nightmares.”_

 _“We may not have a choice,”_ Hunk added. _“If the Black Lion’s not responding to Shiro even though the connection is there, then that means its probably waiting for us to find a pilot for the Blue Lion.”_

“But tha-”

_“Hunk’s right.”_

“Shiro!”

_“Keith, it’s okay.”_

“No, it’s not!”

 _“We’ll find a way to deal with this,”_ Shiro said, turning so he faced the Red Lion. _“We can do this. We took down Sendak twice. We can free the Balmera and free Shay and her people. We **can** do it. We **have** to.” _ He turned an encouraging smile to Hunk in the Yellow Lion. _“The paladins of Voltron keep our promises.”_

 _“Yeah, we do,”_ Hunk cheered.

Keith’s jaw tightened in frustration and he glared at the closed door keeping the Black Lion locked away. They needed the Black Lion to win. Hunk and Pidge may be able to overlook their declining odds and fight in the name of hope, but Keith couldn’t. He was a realist. He saw things as they were. And right now, they sucked. Big time.

There was no way just three Lions could free an entire planet, even with Shiro’s impressive skills in a pod. They simply didn’t have enough firepower. Worse, Keith suspected Shiro was also aware of the looming problem. But Shiro was the leader; he had to keep the team’s morale up. If they lost what little morale they had left, then they would lose without a fight.

That was unacceptable. Keith may be expecting to lose, but he was not going down without taking a hell of a lot of Galra down with him. They took Shiro from him once. He would make them pay for what they did.

 _“We’re approaching the Balmera,”_ Coran announced over the Castle’s loud speaker. _“Any luck with the Black Lion?”_

 _“No,”_ Shiro replied. _“Nothing. I’m sorry Coran. We’ll have to find a way around this.”_

_“I see.”_

Coran’s disappointed voice made Keith growl. Even though Keith knew Coran wasn’t judging or blaming Shiro for any of this, it still irked him. Why? Why wouldn't the Black Lion respond? Unless…

“Hey Coran,” he said suddenly.

_“Yes, Keith?”_

“Do you think either you or the princess could pilot the Blue Lion?”

_“What?”_

“I know it’s not a permanent fix,” Keith said quickly, “but maybe the Blue Lion could tolerate it just long enough for us to free the Black Lion, free the Balmera, and get our asses out of here without getting ourselves killed. If we die, so does Voltron.”

 _“I… I couldn’t,”_ Coran said reluctantly. _“I’m not that kind of pilot.”_

 _“I could try,”_ Allura said. _“But if the Blue Lion won’t lower the barrier protecting it, then even if I could pilot it-”_

“It wouldn’t matter. Yeah, I get it,” Keith muttered. He frowned.

 _“Look,”_ Shiro said, gaining the team’s attention, _“let’s just discuss our plans to free the Balmera on the bridge for now. Allura can try coaxing the Blue Lion’s shield down while we get our armor on. If she can’t do it by the time we get back down here to launch, we’ll call it and I’ll take another pod.”_

“But Shiro, that’s-”

 _“Keith! We’ll find a way out of this,”_ Shiro said firmly. _“I promise. Let’s just deal with one problem at a time.”_

* * *

“Just a few more spans,” Lance muttered breathlessly. “Just a few more. You can do this. Brea-ah!”

His entire body stiffened, quivering as pain lanced through his leg again. He grit his teeth as the tears pooled in his eyes. It hurt. Dear quiznak, it hurt. It was driving him to distraction. And he was still so _thirsty._

At least he’d been able to contact the Empire. That was one point he could claim for himself. Feel free to applaud whenever. Or not.

The climb back up to the open vent on the bridge level was excruciating. He never realized how much he used his foot until he suddenly couldn’t anymore. Ladders were evil. But, then again, better ladders than figuring out how to climb up and down a smooth vent. Ladders were evil, but handholds were a blessing.

He hardly made it to the living quarters level before giving up and just settling in for the night. The open bridge vent could wait. The Galra would find them soon, he would be rescued, and finally, _finally_ he could go home. He wanted nothing more than to curl up in his blankets and pillows and just sleep the pain away.

He deserved it.

Two more turns, a brief yet agonizing slither, and he was back in the little, mini-nexus of air vents almost directly below the central hallway where the Castleship’s small crew lived and slept. When it was quiet, which was often during what he assumed was nighttime in particular, he could hear the crew’s footsteps on the vent ceiling. At least one of the crew liked to wander.

He wondered briefly if this made him a creeper, but dismissed the idea. Surviving wasn’t creeping. He could creep while surviving, but he couldn’t creep to survive.

Sort of.

Kind of.

Technicalities.

Shaking his head, he flopped onto the vent floor. The cool metal pressed against his robed chest, offering some relief from the warm air flowing languidly thought the vent. Without bothering to lift his head and look, he reached out and felt around for his bottle of water. He almost sobbed with joy when he found it.

Water. Sweet water. It flowed over his parched tongue and down his dry throat like a cool balm. But it wasn’t enough. He couldn’t drink as much as he knew his body needed. Lance had no way of knowing when he would have another chance to sneak out of the vents and refill the bottle, especially now that his leg was broken.

He could _not_ be caught.

The Castle’s crew would kill him.

Sobs bubbled up from his chest, spilling from his lips and into his muffling hands. He curled his aching body into a ball of misery and wished with all his heart that he was back home. He wanted out of these brightly lit vents, out of this brightly lit Castle, away from this mismatched group of colorful intrepid idiots, and back in his own bed with his family. At this point, he would even settle for his bed in the Druid barracks.

Although, he wasn’t looking forward to his report. Because Commander Sendak had been involved in this misadventure, Lance would have to give his report to Haggar directly. The fact the Lions of fraking Voltron had been involved... Lance would probably have to give his report to Emperor Zarkon too. Did he want to talk to Haggar and Emperor Zarkon? He’d rather bite off his own hand.

He would have to defend his position and he wasn’t sure how to do that. Commander Sendak was dead, or at least Lance was fairly certain Sendak was dead. The emperor would question Lance about his actions, or inactions. Why didn’t Lance fight the paladins? Why did he let Commander Sendak die? Why did he hide like a coward after the fact instead of stage his own takeover?

The Druids were a force to be reckoned within the Galra Empire. Lance had worked hard to be the best Druid he could be. He knew his strengths and weaknesses. He knew what to do to survive in tough situations. Quiznak, he was even learning how to create a Robeast. Granted, he hadn’t succeeded in creating anything other than a palm-sized pygmy-puma-thing, but it worked! For all of five tecks, but it still worked! He would be an alchemist yet.

As long as he continued to progress or continued to be useful, his family was safe. No one messed with a Druid’s family. Druids don’t have family. Any Galra would tell a willing listener that Druids appeared from the deepest, darkest Void of space for the sole purpose of wreaking sanctioned havoc on the universe under the cruel hand of Haggar and Emperor Zarkon.

What a load of stinky feet and wet Galra smeg.

Despite himself, weak chuckles mixed with Lance’s tears. He still remembered the first time he’d heard that theory. He’d snorted behind his mask and had to dismiss himself from the Galra practice ring where he’d been assigned to observe and cackled madly back in the safety of his barracks. The Master Druid he had been serving under had given him a thorough verbal lashing, but it had been absolutely worth it.

The memory warmed his heart and eased some of his tears. The pain in his leg didn’t go away and neither did his homesickness, but he felt better. His shaking had eased and his breathing was calm and somewhat under control again.

The warm air moving through the vent was cooling a bit now so he pulled his legs as close to his chest as he could. He tucked his brown robes around his hands and feet and tugged his hood as far over his face as possible. He needed to stay warm and awake. The pain in his broken leg had ebbed, but he should probably bind it to keep the swelling down and hold the bones in place.

He should, but he was so tired.

That realization had him bolting upright, blinking blindly. He choked on a cry when the sudden movement jolted his leg. He’d started to fall asleep without being aware of it. Oh, this wasn’t good. He was in shock.

He had to stay awake. He had no guarantee what would happen if he fell asleep in the state he was in. He needed to do something, to distract himself.

With a heavy sigh, Lance leaned back against the vent wall, hunching over so his head didn’t hit the roof. He ran his fingers carefully over his brown robes, feeling for the tears he knew were there from when Commander Sendak’s battlecruiser had crashed. He still wasn’t sure how he survived that, by the way. Then again, it was probably for the best that he didn’t know.

Sure enough, there was a significant tear near the hem of his robes. It was larger than he remembered. He couldn’t imagine why. His blue eyes rolled in annoyance. Oh well. He gripped the torn fabric and pulled with all his might, only managing to rip a little further. You know, there were times when he was very glad Druid robes were strong and durable. Now was not one of those times.

Drawing on his quintessence, he formed the sharp nails he’d used to pry the lift doors open earlier and sliced right through the fabric all along the bottom hem. Then he pulled the strip loose and took a deep breath. This was not going to be pleasant.

With the upmost care, Lance lifted his right knee with his free hand and stuffed his left foot underneath it, propping it up. Then he tugged his robes up and looped the strip of fabric around his injured leg. It was already impressively swollen. At least he didn’t have to see the bruising on his skin that was no doubt there through his brown pants. He didn’t really want to see it.

Something dripped from his lip as he tied the fabric into a knot as tight as he could manage. He leaned back against the vent wall and rubbed his chin, gasping in tandem with the pulsing pain in his leg. There was blood on his fingers. Oh joy. He must have bitten through his lip. Fabulous.

Thirsty.

Tired.

_No!_

He could not sleep. He had to stay awake. He needed to do something. So thirsty. Maybe he could go look for water. It would give him something to do. Besides, he did still need to find his bone mask. He knew when and where he lost it and there were only so many horizontal vent tunnels that branched off from that area.

Sighing, he took one last sip from his water bottle before tucking it beneath his robes and pushed himself away from the wall. This wasn’t going to be fun, not one bit.


	4. Mice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lance searches, finds new friends, and falls face first into trouble. Again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** I realize I forgot to explain this before I posted this chapter. The name(s) for the mice that I'll be using are canon as far as I know. I've listed the names below for reference as well as my source link:
> 
> Platt \- the largest mouse with yellow and green fur  
> Chulatt \- the smallest mouse with blue fur and blue eyes  
> Plachu \- blue mouse with red eyes  
> Chuchule \- pink mouse with red eyes
> 
>  _Source:_ http://voltron.wikia.com/wiki/Space_Mice_(Legendary_Defender)

It took a few doboshes longer to get to the vertical vent where he’d lost his mask due to his injury. When he finally got there, he took one look at the shaft and groaned. He would have to look at every vent tunnel branching off this one for at least five tunnels above his position and three below. The good news was that he shouldn’t have to scour the tunnels, just glance at them. With any luck, the mask was sitting there in plain sight.

If not… He gulped and stared down the vent to the bottom far below. He typically tried to avoid these vertical vents because he was terrified of accidentally missing a step or losing his grip due to sweaty hands on the ladder rungs along the fall. Strange how something that used to exhilarate him now terrified him. Fall from the sky on a crashing battlecruiser tended to do that, he supposed.

Oh well. Better get this over with. He had a fairly decent mental map of the vent layout in the Castle, although he hadn’t explored every tunnel. Some he knew better to explore because he had no way of knowing where he could turn around, if ever. He didn’t want to get stuck. Others he avoided because they were deliberately blocked off. There was probably a reason for that. No need to force a sealing door open only to expose himself to the vacuum of space by accident.

Leaning out of the tunnel, he grabbed the nearest ladder rung and eased the rest of his body out. Thank quiznak it was his lower leg that was broken and not his thigh. That meant he still had some control over his leg’s movements. Not much and it wasn’t painless, but better that than letting it swing around like a limp yelmor tail. That would be worse.

He decided to start looking at the upper vents first. Climbing up the ladder, he glanced into each and every vent tunnel he passed. Nothing. For some reason, the disappointment brought tears of frustration to his eyes. Why? This wouldn’t normally cause that reaction. Maybe, he admitted reluctantly, he wasn’t dealing with the crash as well as he thought he was.

No surprise, all things considered. But if he didn’t find a way around this newfound fear of heights, then he couldn’t fly. Levitation, although he wasn’t good at it, was still the closest he got to legitimate flying and that gave him a migraine and nosebleed. He could and had flown Galra fighters both in and out of combat, and that was enough of a thrill to satisfy his daydreaming. But if his fear of heights got any worse…

Or maybe it wasn’t fear of heights so much as a fear of falling.

His chest clenched and it felt like his heart stopped for all of two ticks. Okay, message clear. Fear of falling. He wasn’t going to fall here. Calm down body, stop panicking. Mind over matter. He had a good grip and he was getting to know these vents by memory. He wasn’t going to fall. He knew that. He _knew_ that.

So why was his breath continuing to pick up?

Think about something else.

No mask up here, so time to go down. No, no body, not _fall_ down, _climb_ down. A controlled descent. He didn’t even need to go very far either, relatively speaking. Just nine levels or so total. Nothing serious. He’d done worse.

Like fall from the sky in a…

OKAY NOT A GOoD ThInG tO ThiNk AbOuT!

Taking a deep breath, Lance continued to climb down the ladder, staring fixedly at either his hands or the vent tunnels. Almost done, Lance. Almost done. Just a bit… more?

What… What was that scratching sound?

No.

Don’t tell him…

He looked over his shoulder at the vent tunnel behind him and choked on a squeak. Not that he needed to. The mice in the tunnel were doing enough squeaking all on their own. What were they doing with… They were crawling all over his mask! That’s _disgusting!_

“Hey!” he cried indignantly. “That’s mine!”

The mice froze and stared at him in shock. There were four mice that Lance could see. A big green one that certainly knew where to find the food, a tiny blue mouse with blue eyes and ears almost bigger than its head, a pink mouse with red eyes that Lance swore looked like it was smiling at him, and another blue mouse. But this one had red eyes narrowed suspiciously at him.

For two ticks, Lance the mice had a stare down that was a bit more intense than he expected from dumb vermin like mice. Then the mice squealed, latched onto Lance’s mask, and began dragging it down the vent tunnel _away from him!_

“Hey!” Lance shouted, struggling across the vertical vent to the branching tunnel after the mice. “That’s my mask. Hey! Come back here!”

Clamoring into the vent quickly was a bit more complicated than Lance anticipated. In his rush to get his mask back from the mice, he forgot to watch what happened to his broken leg. The sharp pain that blazed up his leg when his shin smacked into the sharp ledge of the tunnel brought that oversight abruptly to the forefront.

The resulting cry that ripped from his throat was more sob than shout. Had it been any other time, Lance would’ve been humiliated, but he was alone and he somehow doubted a bunch of measly mice would judge him for the lapse in self-control. At the moment, all Lance could do was clench his eyes shut, fist his hands, and quiver as every muscle in his body stiffened against the agony. He couldn’t move, he could barely breathe.

Frak his mask. Frak those mice. Frak his mission. Frak his life.

It _hurt._

He couldn’t remember when he started crying. He could just feel hot tears streaming down his face, nails digging into his palms, and sobs falling from his raw throat in time with the pulsing pain in his leg. He was too worn out for this.

Something soft brushed against his hand and he opened his eyes. He had to blink a couple times to clear the blurriness from his vision, but when he could see clearly again, he wasn’t sure he wanted to.

“What do _you_ want?” he snapped, too upset to care about his tone. Not like mice would care anyway.

The smallest blue mouse was staring up at his face with an expression that Lance recognized as surprise and possibly even awe. What? Since when did mice have facial expressions? The mouse pointed at Lance’s face and squeaked loudly and urgently to its companions. Lance blinked and suddenly the other three mice scampered into view and stared up at him with similar shocked expressions.

Was he hallucinating? Was he really so upset that he was hallucinating mice having emotions?

Oh, huh. The big green one had a lighter green spot right over its right eye. That was actually kind of cute. And now the little blue mouse was waving to him and squeaking at him and the others were doing the same. Fantastic. He was hallucinating a conversation with mice.

He’d officially gone insane.

Well, if he was officially calling it, might as well go the whole way.

This was stupid.

But he was insane now so why the frell not.

He lifted a hand and waved wearily back.

The mice cheered.

He slapped his hand to his face and confused laughter mixed with his half-sob breaths.

“I give up,” he murmured. “I give up. Look,” he said, removing his hand looking directly at the tiny blue mouse. Did it have a name? “I just want my mask back. Please. That’s all I want. Can you just give it back?”

The smallest mouse squeaked and the pink and bigger blue mouse rushed out of sight. When they reappeared, they were pushing his bone mask in front of him. Oh. They understood him. That meant they understood speech. Which meant they were intelligent. Which meant his hallucination was nice enough to give him someone to talk to. That was nice. Even if that someone, or someones were mice.

…yay…

Still, they’d given him back his mask.

“Thanks,” he said, reaching for the familiar smooth bone and tugged it close. The straps were still there but they’d come free from the latches holding them in place so it fit his head. He could work with that. Carefully, Lance shifted himself into a position where he could sit on the vent floor without putting excess pressure on his broken leg and began working to adjust the mask straps back to his preferred setting. There were crimps in the mesh straps from where the latches pressed which made it that much easier to find the correct setting.

When he was satisfied, he tossed back his hood and smoothed out his hair earning him another flurry of squeaks from the mice. This may be a hallucination, but there was never a good reason to look bad if there was anything he could do about it. He slipped the mask over his face, adjusting it ever so slight so the straps sat snugly behind his ears and his nose wasn’t compressed. The last thing he needed right now was something inhibiting his breathing.

The squeaking suddenly pitched higher and he looked down at the mice, tilting his head curiously. They flinched, skittering back against the vent’s far wall. Oh. The mask must scare them. He chuckled awkwardly. Yeah, he probably should have anticipated that. The masks freaked out the Galra. Of course it would scare a bunch of tiny, hallucinated mice.

With a shy smile, he pushed the mask up so the front rested on his head and his face was visible again. Slowly, the mice edged back towards him. Again, it was the tiny blue mouse that came the closest and the quickest.

“It’s okay,” Lance said. “It’s just a mask. It’s still me.”

The little mouse scurried up to the hand he held out and sniffed his fingers. Its whiskers tickled him and the way its little nose twitched was adorable. He wasn’t even disgusted when the mouse hopped onto his hand and sat in his palm looking up at him expectantly. Erm, what was it expecting? Well, it understood speech right? Might as well ask it.

“Uh, do you want something?” he asked awkwardly.

The mouse squeak and made a lifting motion with its tiny arms. Cute. Um, he cleared his throat.

“You want me to lift you up?” he asked, hoping he’d interpreted the charades correctly.

The mouse nodded.

“O-kay,” he drawled, lifting his hand so the mouse was eye level with him. “Um, hi.”

The mouse waved and honest to quiznak _smiled_ at him.

“Nice to meet you?”

The mouse squeaked and pointed to itself, then pointed to each of the other mice in turn and squeaked.

“Are you introducing yourselves to me?” Lance asked in disbelief. “You have names?”

The mouse nodded.

“Oh.” Well then. “Um, I- Okay. Nice to meet all of you, I guess. I’m, um…”

It was against Druid regulations. A Druid was a robe, a mask, and quintessence. Nothing more. But was he even a Druid now? With no commander or Druid Master to watch him, did he have to follow the rules?

Ah, frak it. It was a hallucination anyway. Frak the rules.

“I’m Lance,” he said.

All of the mice squeaked and waved at him.

“Do you- ah, live here?” he asked, waving to the vents around him. Stupid question.

The mouse in his hand shrugged and made a face that looked a lot like a ‘kind of-sort of-maybe-not-yes’ reply.

“Do you live in the vents like me, I mean?” Lance clarified. “Or, not like me but, well yes like me right now, but I don’t actually live in the vents ‘cause that would be weird and creepy and I’m rambling. Oh quiznak.” He rubbed his forehead wearily and huffed a laugh. “I just want to get out of here and go home.”

He looked up when the little mouse squeaked. Something tugged his robes and he looked down to see the other three mice climbing up his robes up to sit in his lap. They looked sad and even the little blue mouse squatted down and pet his palm in a comforting manner.

Lance laughed, a watery smile stretching his lips. “Thanks,” he said. “I can’t go out there though. The crew’ll kill me if they find me.”

The mouse shook its head vehemently and squeaked. Lance had the sneaking suspicion he was being scolded.

“Maybe they won’t kill you,” Lance said, “but trust me, they _will_ kill me.” He slouched. “They've already tried once.” The admission seemed to surprise the mice. “They did, several times actually. Although, the third time was an accident,” he admitted. “And maybe the second time was,” he added, sulking. “But the first time was definitely deliberate. Jerks,” he huffed.

The mouse squeaked a question.

“They blew me up,” Lance said. The mice squealed and Lance shrugged. “They did. There was fire and flying metal and screams and blood and just…” He shuddered. “I would just rather not think about it right now, okay?”

The mouse in his hand nodded, its squeaks subdued. Lance smiled gently at his new, blue friend.

“I like blue,” he said absently. The mouse perked up proudly and Lance chuckled. “I do. It’s actually my favorite color. I’m not allowed to wear it, but I love it. It’s so pretty. Like the ocean. I miss the ocean. I haven’t seen an ocean in a long time.” His smile shrank but didn’t fade completely. “I want to see the ocean again one day. Maybe if I get out of this alive, they’ll let me have a few days off.” He snorted. “If I survive my debrief, that is.”

The blue mouse smacked his hand in what was probably chastisement, but it was too cute for Lance to take seriously. He smiled.

“You don’t know my bosses,” he said. “They’re scary.”

The mouse started ranting in a cute, squeaking rampage that had him giggling despite the increasing pitch of the squeaks. The poor thing was probably upset that he was laughing at it, but it was so cute!

He sighed and leaned back to let his head rest on the vent wall, and ended up thunking his head on the low roof knocking his mask back over his face.

“Ow,” he grumbled.

The mouse squeaked and Lance felt it scamper across his hand and hop onto the collar of his robes and push the mask back. Lance looked down and saw the little mouse peering up at him from under the mask and offered a crooked smile to which the mouse replied with a brilliant grin.

The mouse looked down and squeaked to its companions and, before Lance knew what was happening, there were four little, colorful mice sitting on his shoulders. Well, this was new. One of the mice tapped his eye scale and he blushed.

“I guess you’re all going to ride with me?” he asked. The mice squeaked happily and his own smile widened. “Okay then. Where should we go?” A mouse tugged his left ear and he obligingly leaned out into the vertical vent. “You should probably know my leg’s broken so I can’t climb for long,” he said thoughtfully.

The little blue mouse sitting on left shoulder squeaked, patting the skin by his ear that wasn’t covered by his mask in concern. He lifted his mask enough to see and flashed it a smile. The big green mouse next to the little blue one had both of its tiny paws on its cheeks in an overdramatic show of worry. It brought a chuckle to his lips.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “My, I guess you could say my ‘friends’ even though they aren’t really my friends, but hey, you take what you get. Anyway,” he said with a sigh, “I’ve called my ‘friends’ and they should be on their way to get me soon.”

There was a twitter from his right shoulder and he glanced over where the bigger blue mouse and the pink mouse sat and smiled. “My bosses may not be very nice and neither are my ‘friends’ really, but they’ll come,” he said, with an encouraging wink. “At least, I hope they’ll come,” he added in a softer voice.

He turned his gaze to the vertical vent and let his mask drop back into place. “Alright, up or down?” he asked.

One of the mice on his right shoulder squeaked and pointed down.

“Alright, down we go. Hold on guys,” he said, grabbing a ladder rung.

* * *

“Why?” she pleaded, her turquoise gaze on the dark, unresponsive eyes above her. “Why won’t you help?”

Silence.

“Please,” she begged. “We need your help. I understand if you don’t want me as your pilot, but we need you. We can’t free the Black Lion without you. We can’t form Voltron without you. Please, let me be your paladin. Just for this one mission.”

The Blue Lion remained still and silent behind its blue particle barrier. Its golden eyes were dark and dead. Nothing Allura said would sway it.

The princess gripped the inactive blue bayard in her hand fighting back the sadness that settled in her heart. This was her team, her friends, however strange and foreign they may be. They had grown into a makeshift family that she’d come to adore. She wanted so badly to protect them, to help them, but she couldn’t. The Blue Lion wouldn’t let her.

“Why?” she demanded. “Why won’t you listen to me? Why won’t you help?”

Silence.

“I promise never to pilot you again if you just let me this one time,” she said. “We need to free the Balmera before more innocent people die at the hands of the Galra. We need your help to do that.” She lifted her hands and clasped them in a pleading manner. “I swear we will do everything we can to find your paladin as soon as we free the Balmera. Just help me this once. Please.”

Nothing.

Defeated, Allura hung her head. She stared at the inactive bayard still clutched between her hands and felt a sting of anger. She couldn’t even use the bayard to defend her friends. The Blue Lion refused to allow her even that. She sighed and clenched the bayard in withheld fury.

“Fine,” she said, doing her best not to let it sound like a hiss. “Ignore me. But what if your paladin is on the Balmera? What if they die because you refused to help? What then? What will happen to Voltron, to all of us? The Galra will win and we’ll- What?!”

Without warning, a loud clatter followed by a hoarse cry of shocked pain and a gut-wrenching thud echoed behind her. Spinning around, Allura stared at the floor by the wall in surprise. Lying on the floor groaning and shaking was a pile of brown fabric. A fold in the fabric shifted and a small, blue mouse popped up and looked around.

“Chulatt?!” Allura gasped.

The mouse looked at her and squeaked happily, waving at her and the pile of brown fabric nest around it.

“You found a what?” she repeated in disbelief. “What’s going on?”

She heard the familiar hiss of the lift doors opening behind her at the same time she watched the fabric lift in a vaguely Altenoid shape. When the front of the hood where the being’s face should be turned to her, her breath caught in fear. Instead of a face, she saw a long, bone white _thing_ with six, glowing gold eyes staring right at her.

“Galra!”

"Druid!"


	5. Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the line between friends and enemies is thin and gray, and the Blue Lion will not be swayed otherwise.

"Galra!"

Lance barely had time to react to the princess's shout before he saw the rest of the crew walk into the hanger behind her, including the Champion.

Oh quiznak.

The Champion took one look at the scene, locked his dark gray eyes on Lance's form and snapped a furious, "Druid!"

Lance was dead.

The others didn't question their leaders' declarations. They drew their handheld weapons that transformed -Woah! They were alchemists?! No fair!- and ran straight for him. The mice still clinging to Lance's robes squealed but he couldn't be bothered to figure out what they were trying to say. Not if he wanted to live, which he very much did.

He staggered to his feet, wincing when he put a little too much weight on his broken leg and waited. He had to time this right. The Champion got to him first, slashing with his Druid-enhanced arm. Just when the hand was close enough for him to feel the buzzing quintessence, Lance teleported.

Reappearing behind the Champion, he punched the man in the upper back reinforcing his attack with quintessence. He didn't stay to watch the man fly forward. He ducked swiftly to the left when the high whistle of air behind him and slightly to his right met his ears. Still, even as quick as he was, he barely managed to dodge a broad, red and white bladed sword as it was.

The blade slashed right where he'd been standing an instant ago. He could feel the rush of air in front of his face as the blade passed it and saw the wielder's shocked expression. Taking advantage of the swordsman's surprise, Lance crouched low and punched his attacker in the gut.

With a breath and surge of quintessence, Lance cast multiple illusions of himself scattered about the room and vanished. He reappeared in the midst of the tangle of identical figures near the yellow paladin whose name he'd never actually learned. He could only manage up to five copies of himself at a time at his current power level before he lost his concentration and they fell apart. Thankfully, five illusions plus his real self was enough to distract most attackers.

Or it would have been if he hadn’t blown everything with one, simple mistake.

After materializing, he landed on his dominant leg and promptly shrieked in pain. Before the yellow paladin close by had the chance to take advantage of his momentary weakness, Lance teleported again, making sure to land on his left leg this time. Unfortunately, he still hopped pathetically when his balance didn't settle immediately.

The three mice still clinging to his robe collar were squealing loudly. He’d lost the tiny blue mouse somewhere in the scuffle and fervently hoped the little creature wasn’t hurt. He had to shake his head when the squealing assaulted his sensitive ears. He wasn't used to such loud noises so close to his ears. And they were so high pitched!

His distraction caused him to miss the green blade flying directly at him. The blade circled his legs and tightened abruptly, startling him and throwing his off his center of gravity. Lance flailed, trying to regain his balance. With a sinking feeling, he looked down and recognized this particular weapon.

No. No! He would _not_ be electrocuted again.

_Not again!_

Desperately, Lance flung out a hand and let loose a wild quintessence bolt towards the green paladin. The fleeting moment of satisfaction when the bolt struck the paladin's chest vanished when, an instant later, he realized the paladin was still holding their weapon. The glowing green chord still looped around his legs tightened and he crashed to the ground with a cry.

At least he'd landed on something somewhat soft. That was a blessing. He slid off the soft thing and reached down to start undoing the chord around his legs. When his hand bumped someone else’s, he lifted his masked eyes and he came face-to-face with what, or rather _who_ he'd landed on. The princess.

Oh frak.

Furious turquoise eyes gleamed in fury as she pounced on him, smacking him in the mask with the metal thing she held and knocking him back to the ground. Quiznak! He couldn’t move properly! Druidic robes were designed to instill fear. They were _not_ designed for hand-to-hand combat. He freed a hand from the folds of his robes and shot a quintessence bolt out, which the princess _dodged!_ What the-?!

A mouse squealed by his right ear and he winced. However, he didn't miss the momentary surprise on the princess's face and used her hesitation to throw her off him. She landed hard on the floor next to him, dropping the white and blue weapon-thing she'd been holding. It skidded across the floor, coming to a stop just out of their reach.

He stared at the weapon, then stared at princess through his mask. She stared right back, her eyes widening when she realized they both had the same idea. They both simultaneously dove for the weapon-thing. Her fingers reached it first only because Lance was suddenly yanked back along the floor by the chord still wrapped securely around his legs.

No. Frak it, _no!_

The princess grabbed hold of the weapon-thing and spun around to face him. Instead of aiming or something logical, she lifted it up and brought it straight down towards his head like a blunt instrument. Lance wasn't stupid, he dodged to the right hoping the strike would miss him by a hair so he could attempt a counterattack. But a scared squeak on his left shoulder forced him to twist his body further, avoiding the weapon-thing entirely. The sudden move put unexpected pressure on his abused right leg sending a blaze of agony shooting through his veins.

The princess lifted her weapon-thing and advanced on him again. He kicked his long brown sleeve into her path, jerking it when she stepped on it so she lost her footing. The green mouse fell from his shoulder when he moved too abruptly And landed on the floor. It began squeaking loudly and waving its tiny paws at the princess.

Lance would’ve thought his little defender was adorable, if he didn’t notice the tick the princess lost her footing and tumbled to her knees. He snapped out a hand, caught the mouse, pulled it close to his collar, and curled around it protectively before it could be squashed by accident.

The resounding _clank_ of the princess's blunt weapon striking the metal floor accompanied by her grunt rang dully through the room. Lance saw her adjust her grip on the weapon-thing and moved. He let go of the mouse, which he felt crawl back to his shoulder, and lashed out with both hands. The princess’s eyes widened in frustrated fury when Lance snatched the weapon-thing from her before she could react.

It almost slipped from his grasp when something grabbed the hem of his hood and yanked it back. The collar of his robes dug into his throat, cutting off his airway. He rolled with it, riding the momentum so his back hit the floor just as he raised the blue and white gun-

_Gun?!_

-and fired. The Champion barely managed to raise purple hand in time to deflect the blue bolt fired from the _gun_ in Lance's hands. Stunned, the Champion staggered away with wide eyes. Not that Lance blamed him. Who knew the weird blunt-instrument-weapon-thing the princess had could turn into a _gun!_ Talk about convenient.

Lance fired four more bolts in quick succession. The first, he shot at the Champion who was still too close for comfort. The second, he fired at the yellow paladin who was adjusting a large yellow device in his hands. The third, Lance shot at the annoying green paladin who still held his legs captive, knocking their weapon out of their hand. The last bolt, he fired at the advancing red paladin with the sword.

The Champion stepped back and deflected Lance’s shot with- was that a _force shield_ generator in the Champion’s _arm!?_ The frak!? Too many surprises. The yellow paladin blocked Lance’s shot with his huge yellow device. What even _was_ that thing? The red paladin was fast enough to avoid the bolt entirely, but it was close. The green paladin wasn't fast enough. They dropped their weapon with a startled cry, clutching their injured hand.

Firing another wild blast at the princess to be sure she stayed down, Lance tried to kick the loosening green chord off his robed legs. It hurt like a fraking Galra smeg, but he refused to cry out. Here, behind the mask, in the presence of enemies, he was a Druid. Druids were not allowed to show weakness if they wanted to live to tell about it. Druids did their duty, protected their charges, said nothing, and didn’t surrender.

Besides, Lance knew the price of surrendering. Death.

He'd rather die fighting.

The three mice still on his shoulders were pulling his ears and squeaking in fear. He couldn't let them get hurt. He had to protect them. After the way the princess reacted to them, he was sure now that they weren’t hallucinations. That just made protecting his new furry friends even more important. Right now, he was the Druid and the three mice were his charges. If only he could find the fourth mouse some…where…

What? The princess had the tiny blue mouse. She _had_ his charge! How _dare_ she! How _dare-_ It was squeaking…

“What?” he vaguely heard the princess say. “No, no, no, slow down I can’t keep up.”

The mouse was talking to her? The princess was kneeling on the floor with his little furry friend sitting in her hands _talking_ to it and it was talking back? They were her _friends?_ They were _her_ friends?

But… He thought… They were…his…friends…

Lance staggered to his feet and hobbled backwards, keeping the gun between himself and the paladins. He vaguely heard a humming sound behind him and hoped it wasn't a particle barrier. Honestly, it didn't really matter even if it was a particle barrier at this point. Unless he could somehow slip back into the vents and lose his pursuers long enough for the Empire to attack and save him -which was very unlikely at this point- then he was dead anyway.

And now that he knew his mice friends weren’t really _his_ friends, it was becoming harder and harder to find the energy to keep fighting. He was tired and hungry and thirsty and hurting and scared and just about done with this frell-begotten situation. All he had to do was let go and let his training kick in. He knew how to be dangerous. He’d trained all his life to be dangerous. But any Galra would tell you that a Druid backed into a corner wasn’t just dangerous, they were deadly.

If he let go, he could probably put up enough of a fight to either escape back into the vents or die by his enemies’ hand. But he wouldn’t be able to protect his little furry friends anymore. He wouldn’t be able to think beyond ‘kill or be killed.’ Anything other than that was a distraction. He would lose the ability to be careful and his mice would very likely die in the battle.

“He… he what?” the princess gasped. “No, that can’t be. That-”

Wide, turquoise eyes locked on Lance’s masked face in awful horror. He breathed a shaky sigh that was more sob than anything else. The mice weren’t his friends, they were the princess’s. They were his enemies. But they'd been nice to him. For a brief moment, he had felt happy. He wanted to remember that feeling, no matter how much the betrayal hurt now. He could be deadly and win, or die and keep his friends safe.

It was amazing how all of those thoughts flashed through his head before he realized he’d already made his decision. This was it then. He would never be an alchemist. He would never be a Master Druid. He would never see his quarters in the Druid barracks again. He would never go home again. He would never see the ocean again. He would never see his family again. He would never fly again.

He would never be free.

At least he could make sure he didn't die in captivity. If he couldn’t have his dreams become reality, then he would make his enemies suffer. He would die fighting. He just hoped his little mice friends survived. Even if a part of him thought they didn’t deserve it.

“Shiro! Duck!”

Lance looked up at the voice, blinked away tears to clear his vision. The yellow paladin was lifting his huge gun -oh quiznak, no, that's just overkill now- and fired. Lance swung his body to his right, staggering when he accidentally put too much weight on his injured leg. He recovered quickly but not quickly enough apparently.

Lance vaguely noticed his hood had fallen back, probably from when the Champion had grabbed him. A tick later, he was glad it had because he was able to catch the red paladin move in the corner of his mask's eye slit. If his hood had been up when he’d dodged the yellow paladin’s shot, he would have missed the red paladin’s attack completely.

He managed to twist sideways so the soaring blade sliced directly in front of his face, much too close for comfort. The blade caught on his mask, jerking him slightly to the left with the blade’s momentum. There was a dull clatter on the floor followed by the sharp clang of metal hitting metal. Lance’s mask lay at his feet in two pieces and the red paladin's blade was skidding across the floor, coming to a stop at the far wall.

Fear.

They could see his face. They would know. They couldn’t know!

What did he care? He was going to die anyway.

This was his chance. They wouldn’t expect him to fight back now.

Acceptance.

Taking a deep breath, Lance lifted his gun and spun to face his enemy.

The Champion was racing towards him, his deadly right hand glowing purple.  

"Wait! _Stop!"_ the princess cried _._

Lance released his breath, tightened his finger on the trigger, and was deafened by a furious roar.

Two huge, mechanical pillars planted themselves on either side of Lance. Unable to stop himself, Lance looked up and up and up. The Blue Lion reared its enormous head and roared again, halting the Champion in his path. The Champion backed away with the other paladins, both of his hands lowered in a nonthreatening manner. Even the princess looked afraid and, was that hope?

The Blue Lion shifted and lowered its head so it hung next to Lance. It growled a challenge.

No. Purred. It purred. _She_ purred. _In his mind!_

What. The. Frell?

The gun fell from numb fingers when the Blue Lion turned her head to face him. He stared helplessly into two bright, vibrant golden eyes and started shaking. He felt something cool and comforting drape over his mind like a well-loved blanket and wanted to cry.

_Mine._

He fell on his bottom when his legs gave out, choking on a cry when it jostled his injury. He sat on the floor, caught in the Blue Lion’s gaze. Unable to look away, unable to stop shaking, unable to stop the tears from pooling in his eyes. The Blue Lion purred softly, like a mother’s whisper, as a soothing cold began seeping into Lance's mind and heart, easing away the pain.

She nudged him gently with her huge head, just lightly enough to brush away a stray, brown bang hanging between his blue eyes. She loved him. He could feel her presence, her _love_ in his mind. She _loved_ him. She _adored_ him. She was _his._ He was _hers._ And she wouldn’t let _anyone_ take him from her. He was _safe_.

He wasn't afraid anymore.

Was she ‘home?’

No.

But, at the same time, yes?

Maybe?

The sound of metal moving against metal somewhere… out there… planted a seed of fear back into his heart. It threatened to pull him out of the cool blanket of safety the Blue Lion held over him. But then she nudged him again, purring deep in her throat, and he forgot to be afraid. He heard the mice squeaking by his ears but it was like hearing a muffled voice through a wall. The mice weren't his priority right now. The Blue Lion was. _She_ was. She _had_ to be. She always _would_ be.

An almighty roar echoed somewhere out there, but it wasn't important. It wasn't _her_. Blue purred and nuzzled him like a mother would her cub. Here, he was safe. Here, she would protect him. Always. Nothing would happen to him. She would make sure of it. She was his, and he was hers.

Hers.

Her pilot.

Her paladin.

Nothing could change that. Nothing ever could. She wouldn’t let it.

He smiled even as trails of wet warmth slipped down his cheeks. Weak fingers reached up and gripped surprisingly warm metal, feeling the quintessence just barely beneath the surface, and breathed a laugh. She shifted and then her head was resting on the ground still facing him. One of her large paws pressed against his back.

She was holding him, protecting him. She felt his pain and she wanted to make it stop. She couldn’t take the pain away, but she knew something that could. If he trusted her.

He did. He did trust her. He trusted her with his… everything. She _was_ his everything.

She purred and her cool presence in his mind grew heavy, insistent, urging him to give in. She would stay with him. She would make sure he was safe.

She promised.

So he closed his eyes.


	6. Black

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith and Shiro are confused, Black is freed, and Lance just finds a way out. Maybe.

It was _fast!_

Keith had no idea what a Druid was, but he'd fought the Galra. Even Sendak with his giant-ass arm wasn't anywhere near as fast as this Druid person. This thing had slipped right past Shiro's guard and struck his friend from behind. The bastard.

However, Keith noticed the way the Druid favored its right side. It was already wounded. If he could focus his attacks on the Druid's right side, he might be able to land a hit.

He raised his bayard and raced forward, slashing down at the Druid's back. It dodged to the left and punched him in the gut, winding him. Keith coughed and sank to his knees, clutching his stomach and trying desperately to catch his breath.

"You alright, Keith?" he heard Shiro say above him, gripping his shoulder.

Keith coughed and waved vaguely for Shiro to get back into the fight. He lifted his head to get a view of the battle and froze. There wasn't just one Druid now; there were six! They stood all around the room, scattered randomly between the paladins. What- How? Where did they come from?

Before Keith could fully comprehend the worsening situation, one of the Druid's staggered with a cry. As suddenly as they appeared, the other Druids wavered and faded. Speed _and_ illusions?

Hunk whipped his full attention to the 'real' Druid and started to raise his bayard gun when the hooded thing simply vanished into thin air. No. That wasn't just speed.

"The Galra have _space wizards?!"_ Hunk cried.

Space wizards, Keith grumbled, letting his head hang. Great. Just what they needed. He took the chance to take two deep breaths, ignoring the lingering twinge in his muscles. Then he got back to his feet and readied his bayard.

The Druid was on the far end of the room so he started running. Pidge had apparently detached the blade part of her bayard and tangled the Druid with the green chord, knocking it down. Right on top of the princess.

"Allura!" he shouted, his cry mingling with Shiro's.

Keith raced towards the princess, only to stumbled back when a purple lightning bolt streaked out from the Druid's extended hand. The bolt barely missed Hunk's head before striking the hanger wall leaving behind a smoldering hole.

"It can use lightning too?!" Pidge shouted. "What the fuck!"

The Druid and the princess were still grappling on the floor, completely oblivious to the chaos around them. Allura was holding her own very well and even got in a few good swings with her inactive bayard before Shiro got there. The black paladin snagged the Druid's hood and dragged it away from the princess. Grinning, Keith adjusted his grip on his bayard handle, and hurried to his friend's side. But he never got the chance to make the kill.

He was almost to Shiro's side when a brilliant blue bolt streaked straight towards his friend. Shiro activated the shield built into his paladin armor in time to deflect it, but Hunk and Pidge's hands were full. They couldn't block the shots. At least Hunk managed to use his huge bayard gun for protection. Pidge's bayard was still tied around the Druid's legs. The green paladin shouted a curse, clutching her injured hand.

"Damnit! Where'd it get a gun?" Pidge demanded furiously.

Keith knew the next shot would be aimed at him. He decided to take the chance and charge the Druid, hoping to get close enough for the creature to botch the shot. He wasn't fast enough and was forced to sacrifice his balance to avoid the blue blast. He landed heavily on his left knee, shaking singed bangs out of his eyes.

That had been a kill shot. If Keith hadn't ducked fast enough, his face would have been a melted mess. It was a damn good shot, too.

"Allura, look out!" Pidge cried when the Druid aimed the gun at the princess.

Allura flinched, crouching back to the floor, a smoking hole a foot short of her knees. When no follow-up shot was fired, Keith hesitated. Why? Why wasn’t the Druid attacking? It had a gun, and speed, and space magic, and who knows what else under those stupid sleeves. With the exception of the one fired at Keith, every one of the Druid's shots had been meant to disable or deter. Why disable the enemy instead of kill them?

Wait. Were those Allura's mice on its shoulders? But why only three? Weren't there four of those things?

"What?" the princess said urgently, shaking her head. "No, no, no, slow down. I can't keep up."

"No one's saying anything, Allura," Keith said, glancing at her strangely. He did a double-take when he saw the missing mouse in the princess's hands. He never would get over the whole Disney-esque talking mice thing.

In the corner of his eye, Keith saw Shiro shift his weight.

"He… he what?" Allura gasped, her bright eyes widening in shock. "No, that can't be. That-"

"Shiro!" Hunk shouted suddenly. Both Keith and Shiro spun to the yellow paladin just in time to hear, "Duck!"

Shiro took one look at Hunk's downright enormous gun and promptly hit the floor. Keith dove to the side so he was well out of range. Still, he could feel the heat of the blazing yellow energy from Hunk's bayard sail past him right over where Shiro lay. But Keith didn't spare Shiro any mind. He knew his friend and leader would be fine. The Druid, however, was not fine.

Granted, the creature did dodge to the right fast enough to avoid Hunk's shot, but it couldn't maintain its footing. This was his chance. Hefting his bayard, Keith adjusted his stance, raised his sword over his shoulder, and threw it like an oversized knife. It didn't spin like he wanted it to though and ended up missing the Druid's head. But it did knock the creepy mask off the thing's face.

The Druid stiffened, and for a split-second Keith was sure he'd still managed a hit, however minor. He grinned viciously. He noticed Shiro hop back to his feet and charge the disoriented enemy, the black paladin's arm glowing a dangerous Galra purple.

Then the Druid spun around, gun raised and ready to fire, and Keith hesitated.

"Wait! _Stop! **"**_ Allura cried.

Blue eyes. That was the first thing Keith noticed about the Druid. The second was the gun poised to take Shiro down at close range. Keith lurched forward to grab his friend before the enemy fired, only to stumble frantically back when suddenly the Druid wasn't alone.

The Blue Lion towered over the Druid's robed formed, its head snapping viciously at Shiro. The black paladin skidded to a stop and held both hands out in a pacifying gesture. The Lion lowered her head and let out a snarl that raised Keith's hackles. It was a challenge, a dare to anyone stupid enough to come close.

At least the Druid looked just as stunned by the new development as Keith and the other paladins no doubt felt. The blue and white gun in its hands clattered to the floor, flashing back into its inert form. Keith cursed when he recognized it.

"The blue bayard?" Hunk gasped.

"It activated for _him?!"_ Pidge cried, enough shock and disdain to satisfy Keith.

Keith was too confused and angry to respond. The Druid was the enemy! Why would the Blue Lion choose an enemy as its paladin? Why would it betray them like that?

He narrowed his eyes when the Druid fell to the ground still staring at the Blue Lion like he'd just received the greatest gift in the universe. Outside of combat, Keith noticed more details that he'd missed before. Dark skin, darker hair, pointed ears, and pale blue scales like crescent moons on either side of the Druid's stormy eyes.

"Altean," Keith breathed in realization. "He's-"

* * *

"Altean," Shiro finished grimly. "Princess?" he said, dark gray eyes turned Allura who was slowly getting to her feet. "What's going on?"

The princess shook her head and opened her mouth to speak. Suddenly, she stilled, standing bolt upright. "Shiro!" she said excitedly. "The Blue Lion has her paladin."

Shiro blinked, thrown. "Y-yes, but-"

"The Black Lion!" Hunk shouted in understanding. "Shiro, try calling the Black Lion now!"

"Yes!" Allura agreed, a smile filling her face. "It should work now."

"But what about-"

"I got it," Pidge said, picking up her bayard and moving determinedly over to where the Blue Lion stood cuddling the Druid.

Cuddling a Druid. That… was such a strange thought and yet there was no other word for what the Blue Lion was doing. There was a lot of strange going on right now and Shiro wasn't sure if he was ready to take it all in yet. But no one was hurt too badly, the Druid was, uh, dealt with for the time being, and the Balmera was waiting for Voltron to free it from the Galra. Which meant his team needed the Black Lion. Shiro hesitated a moment longer, glancing between the princess, the Blue Lion, and the thoroughly distracted Druid before shaking his head.

"This is so weird," he muttered and turned around to face the hanger door sealing the Black Lion behind it. "Alright," he sighed.

Taking a deep breath, Shiro closed his eyes and reached out to the piece of _foreign_ in his mind. He wasn't sure when it first appeared there, woven into his memories and his sense of self. It should feel intrusive. The Black Lion had essentially invaded his inner mind without Shiro's knowledge or permission and yet… And yet Shiro couldn't be angry.

The strands of black, foreign thought tangled in the web of his mind, looping just out of reach. It was so tantalizingly close. If he could just… touch it…

Shiro blinked when the grating sound of metal on metal echoed dully in the hanger. The door keeping him from the Black Lion was opening. He didn't know what he was expecting, but the Black Lion was so much more, so much _better_. The ebony metal gleamed in the hanger lights meshing well with the red protrusions on its back. The Black Lion was much larger than the others in the pride and so was its roar.

He didn't know when he started smiling, but Shiro could feel his cheeks begin to ache. Deep golden eyes locked on Shiro's dark gray and he couldn't look away. He felt pride stir in his chest. His Lion was free he couldn't be happier and what was going on?

The strands of foreign black in his mind pulsed, swirling through his mind like jets of air. The Black Lion was the air itself. Uncatchable. Untamable. Free. All things fell to air in one way or another. Trees bowed to its power, seas grew at its whisper, fires spread at its leisure, and even stone wore away under air's steady attention. Air was needed for life and the continued existence of all living things. Without air, there was no life. Without the Black Lion, there was no Voltron.

"Holy crow," Hunk whispered.

Shiro was too amazed to find the right words to describe what he was feeling. The Black Lion towered over the other Lions sitting silently along the walls of the hanger. Even the heavily armored Yellow Lion didn't compare. In the back of his mind, Shiro had known the Black Lion was leader of the Voltron pride, but actually seeing it made it much more real. Now, it was tangible and not just and abstract thought. He could barely believe his eyes.

A rumbling growl filled his mind causing the mental black strands of moving air Shiro visualized to glow purple and powerful. The Black Lion stood and roared a greeting to its pride and paladins. He was greeted by three other roars. The Blue Lion never raised its feline voice louder than a purr.

For some reason, Shiro wasn't surprised by the lack of response. He could feel the Black Lion's understanding settle in his mind and, although he was still confused, Shiro decided to wait. The matter of the Blue Lion and its newfound paladin could wait. It would have to. The Balmera needed to be freed now. The Blue Lion would take care of her paladin.

"We can do it," Keith murmured, still staring up at the Black Lion. "We can form Voltron."

Shiro nodded. "Yes, we can. Allura," he said, turning to the princess, "it's your call. How do you want to handle this?" He shot a significant glance at the Druid to indicate his meaning.

The princess hesitated, turning her conflicted gaze to the now unconscious Druid before sighing. "The Blue Lion has made its choice," she said seriously. "It wouldn't deliberately choose someone with an evil heart." She bit her lip and look down at the blue mouse in her hands. "You four should head to the Balmera's surface and begin working to free it. I'll stay here and take care of the new paladin."

"What?" Keith gasped.

"How're you gonna do that?" Pidge asked.

"Yeah, I mean, no offense," Hunk said, deactivating his bayard and shrugging, "but it doesn't look like the Blue Lion is going to let any of us near its paladin anytime soon."

Allura's turquoise gaze hardened. "She'll have to," she said firmly. "The mice say he's wounded. That means he needs the healing pod."

Shiro nodded in understand. "So while we're taking care of the Balmera, the Druid will be in the pod," he said.

"Right. Coran can help me carry him there. That should hold him until he's fully healed." The princess carefully approached the Druid sleeping peacefully on the Blue Lion's paw. "Besides," she said softly, "I want to know why an Altean would be fighting for the Galra."

* * *

Cold. Why… was it… so cold? Why were his… thoughts so fuzzy?

A distant beeping pulled him slowly but insistently back to wherever it was. What was that? It sounded…impor..tan…

A roar sheered through the clouds in his mind, yanking him awake. He gasped, trying to catch his racing heart. It felt like he'd been falling and the Blue Lion's roar had saved him from the abyss. His blue eyes grew wide as he looked around him. Where was he? What happened? Where was Blue?

It was _freezing!_ Lance shuddered, feeling his knees quake in the cold. His breath left puffs of fog hovering in the cool air. A new beeping met his sensitive ears. This one was less alarming than the first, but it was faster and higher pitched as well. He raised his hands and pressed them against the frosted front of the small, compact, thing he was in.

Oh. Oh no. Small, compact, cold, no doors, no openings, no escape routes, trapped. He was _trapped!_ He had to get out. He to _get out!_ He had to-

Soothing cool seeped into his mind like a wellspring, slithering into every crevice of his thoughts and sense of self. It was calming and _safe._ Blue.

His frantic breathing eased to something more rhythmic and the burgeoning dizziness began to fade. Blue purred again and Lance closed his eyes, latching onto the cool stream of watery adoration that was his Blue.

He could get out of this. He would. He escaped a crashed Galra battlecruiser, escaped detection by the Castleship's crew for several turns, and apparently survived his unplanned contact with the crew right before meeting Blue. He was sure Blue had something to do with that. The sensation of his Lion nuzzling him brought a small smile to his lips. He would survive this too. He had her, after all. She may not be there physically, but she was in his mind which was, in a way, much more intimate.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Lance opened his eyes and looked at the frosted wall in front of him. He wiped some of the frost away with his hands and realized it was the clear front of a pod of some kind. Weird. Pods were normally used to keep people unconscious. Why was he awake? Unless something broke and that's what the high pitched beeping meant?

Sure enough, Lance glanced down and saw a glowing display on a left side of the pod he was trapped in flashing red. The script on the screen was vaguely similar to Altean, but the words -if those really were words- were utter nonsense. _Dathde_ -something? What? What kind of language was that anyway?

The red flashed quickly, the beeping reaching a steady squeal before abruptly cutting off. The next thing Lance knew, the clear shield he'd been leaning against slid away and he tumbled into the room beyond. He winced when his hands and knees hit the floor. Thankfully, there was no pain in his leg, just a dull, throbbing ache.

There weren't any people or shouts or attacks either. Free. A breathy, relieved laugh escaped him as a single thought made him woozy with hope and excitement. Free. He was free!

Then the alarm blared and Lance quickly got to his feet, ready for an attack. None came. The alarm blared again. Still nothing. The power flashed, stuttering in time to the distant roar of explosions and Lance froze. The Castleship was under attack. That would explain why no one was coming to stop him. They were all either on the bridge defending the Castle or flying in those infernal-

Blue made a soft, hurt sound and Lance hurriedly sent his love and affection to her through their link. Not her. He didn't mean her. He never meant her. She was different. She was special. She was _his._

Blue purred in smug satisfaction and a part of Lance smirked in amusement. She'd played him and they both knew it. Oh, she was a clever girl.

A shrill squeaking startled him out of his thoughts and he stared down at his feet. The little blue mouse and the fat green mouse were standing between Lance's feet waving at him. He hesitated, not sure if he should trust them. He knew they weren't his friends, they were that princess's. But still, they'd never hurt him. Not even by accident.

Sighing, he knelt down and patted the blue mouse on the head. "Hello there," he said, his voice barely audible over the alarms. "I have to go now. Don't try to stop me, please."

The blue mouse squeaked, giving him the most heartbreaking look he'd ever seen. The green mouse was a bit more direct in its displeasure. It grabbed Lance's hand and pulled it lower so it could climb onto it and scamper up his sleeve.

"Wha- What?" Lance stuttered in surprise. "No. Stop! You can't come with me. It's not safe. No- No! Not you too!" he cried when the blue mouse followed its companion's example. "Look, I'm serious. Where I'm going isn't safe," Lance insisted, grabbing the blue mouse before it reached his shoulder where the green mouse already sat. "My bosses are dangerous. They'll kill you if they find you."

Both mice squeaked and Lance got the distinct impression he was being lectured. He groaned and hung his head. "Alright, fine. You can come," he said. "But you do exactly as I say and once we get off this Castleship-thing you stay out of sight, understand?" The blue mouse squeaked and nodded vigorously. "You too," he added, looking down at the green mouse on his shoulder. "Don't think I forgot you."

The green mouse made a series of squeaks and saluted. Oh quintessence save him and whatever was left of his sanity. He set the blue mouse on his shoulder next to the green mouse. He waited for them to latch onto his shirt collar with their tiny paws before getting back to his feet.

The alarm was still blaring throughout the Castle and Lance's ears really did not like it. If the Castle was under attack as Lance suspected, then the attackers were most likely Galra. That meant they'd gotten Lance's message and passed the word on. Good. They were here to save him! He could go home! He had to find a way to tell the Galra where he was without revealing his two new passengers. Or better yet, he needed to find a way out of the Castle and go to them personally.

Blue nudged his mind and Lance's face fell slack in realization.

"Oh, I am so dumb," he mumbled. One of the mice chittered at him, but he ignored them because, "Blue."

Of course. Lance had a flying Lion literally waiting for him to come fly her. He could fly her right out of the Castle and straight to the Galra. He knew the Empire was hunting the Lions and, with any luck, the Galra attacking the Castle knew about him too. If Lance flew the Blue Lion out in the open and surrendered, hopefully they would take him alive and he could explain the situation.

He grinned and reached up to pull his hood lower over his eyes, freezing when his fingers found nothing. No fabric, no bone mask. Nothing. No. Where were his robes? Where was his mask?

Desperately, Lance turned in place, scanning the odd room for any sign of his Druidic robes and mask. The mice chittered and squealed, but it all sounded like questions so he ignored them. Then one of them yanked his ear.

"Ow! What was that for?" he demanded, glaring at the mice. The green one squeaked at him and he sighed. "I still don't know what you're saying," he grumbled wearily. "Look, if we're going to get out of this alive, then I need my robes and my mask. Do you know where they are?" Both mice shook their heads and Lance wilted. Well, at least he tried.

Wait. He recognized this room. This was the Castle's healing chamber. He'd glimpsed it a few times during his adventuring in the vents. But he'd never lingered here for long. There was nothing interesting here.

Still. He knew where he was, he realized, straightening. That meant he knew how to get down to Blue. Looking down at himself, Lance bit his lip when he saw his clothes. All he currently wore was his long sleeved brown shirt, brown pants, and boots. At least the strip he'd cut off his robes was still tied around his right leg, though it was a bit loose now that most of the swelling had gone down. His leg still hurt if he put too much pressure on it, but it was at least tolerable now. He could work with this.

Decided, Lance hurried to the door and out into the hallway. A quick glance down either direction showed that he was alone. It was also blessedly dimmer in here than in the healing pod chamber despite the red lights flashing in tandem with the blaring alarm. Without another thought, Lance raced down the hallway to the left smashing his thumb against the lift button. The lift took way to long to get here. Before the doors were halfway open, Lance was already inside and pressing the button for the hanger bay floors. Blue would guide him from there.

It really was weird moving through the Castle upright. Hallways were so much better on his back than vents. The entire Castle shook violently and the power flickered at the same time a muffled explosion rumbled through the walls. He gulped.


	7. Battlecruiser

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Allura asks for help, Lance gets out, and then lashes out.

"Paladins!" Allura cried, staring out the bridge's view screen in horror. "A Galra battlecruiser's locked onto us. If it fires its ion cannon, I don't think we'll survive."

 _"We're coming as fast as we can, princess,"_ Shiro said. _"Shay's contacting the other Balmerans to help get us out of here and back to the Lions."_

Allura pressed her lips together and gulped. If the paladins weren't fast enough…

A quick beep and flashing light on her display caught her attention and she tapped it, expanding a video feed from inside the Castle. "No," she whispered. "How… Coran!"

"Yes, princess," Coran said without looking over his shoulder, too distracted by the ever-growing list of errors the Castle was suffering from.

"The blue paladin's escaped the healing pod," she declared.

"What?" her advisor gasped, stopping what he was doing to look at the video feed she sent to the bridge' main view screen. "But I only diverted some of the power from those systems," he stuttered. "It shouldn't have been enough to wake him."

"Unless he had help," Allura murmured, pulling up another video feed of the Blue Lion sitting deceptively calm and still in its hanger. "Coran, when I give you the order, I want you to open the Blue Lion's hanger doors."

"What? But princess, we have no guarantee that he'll help us," Coran said in concern. "You know what Shiro said about the Druids. If he leaves with the Blue Lion, we have no guarantee that he'll help us and not run back to the Galra Empire. We can't afford to lose the Blue Lion. If we do, we'll never be able to form Voltron!"

The princess nodded grimly. "I know. But we won't be able to form Voltron if the Blue Lion stays in its hanger either. It's worth a try. "

She sincerely hoped her feeble plan would work. If it didn't…

Quickly turning on the Castle's general speakers, she said, "Blue paladin.” She watched the Altean figure in the lift stiffen and press himself against the lift wall. His wide blue eyes stared up at the ceiling in terror. "I know you can hear me," Allura continued. "I need you to get to your Lion. There's a Galra battlecruiser about to fire its ion cannon at us." The blue eyes widened further. "If our shields fail, then we all die. You included." The paladin on the screen shivered and two specks of color on his left shoulder moved.

Curious, Allura zoomed in on the colors and realized they were her mice. The two mice she'd left in the healing pod chamber to keep an eye on their newest paladin had decided to hitch a ride. Why? They were supposed to watch the Druid paladin, not help him escape. Oh dear.

But, then again, her mice had done something similar before when she first met the blue paladin. All of the mice aside from Chulatt, the smallest blue mouse, had been riding on the Druid’s shoulders and the Druid hadn’t seemed to mind. In fact, Allura remembered the new blue paladin going out of his way to keep the mice safe when she and the other paladins had tried to capture him.

The mice liked him. That had to mean something.

"Please," she continued, her voice wavering as she lifted her eyes to the battlecruiser looming on the bridge's view screens. "Please help us."

"It's preparing to fire!" Coran shouted.

"No," she whispered in horror. "No, we can't- We don't have enough power. We- No. Coran! Divert all shields to the bow. Any power you can divert from miscellaneous systems to boost the shields, do it now."

"Yes, princess," he replied and swiftly obeyed.

"Paladins!" Allura shouted over the communications. "I need you _now!"_

 _"We're coming princess!"_ Pidge said.

Allura watched as the view screens in front of her glowed purple. She braced.

* * *

The floor heaved violently, tossing Lance and his two furry companions against the wall. Lance flailed out with his arms to cushion the impact only to fail again when the shaking continued, completely throwing off his balance.

A roar blared in his mind, momentarily drowning out the klaxon ringing through the Castleship. He looked up and the Blue Lion was standing in her hanger with her head down and mouth open, waiting for him to climb in and fly her out of here. Pushing himself up off the shuddering floor, Lance launched himself towards his Lion.

The constant movement made it difficult to run in a straight line, but he was familiar with uncertain surfaces from his time in the sea. Well, as familiar as he could be, all things considered. He finally managed to grab one of the Blue Lion’s metal fangs and drag himself onto the ramp leading up into her mouth.

He barely made it inside before the Blue Lion snapped her jaws shut and tossed her head back. He stumbled down what would typically be a steady incline into Blue’s head, breathing a sigh of relief when he finally entered what had to be the cockpit.

Blue lights along the walls and on the dashboard illuminated the darkness. He quickly took a seat in the pilot’s chair and reached for the control yokes. This wasn’t the setup he was used to, but it was similar enough. With any luck, this would work.

The moment his hands gripped the control handles and pulled, he saw the main view screen activate. He felt the Blue Lion roar in both his mind and outside and smiled. “Wow,” he breathed. “This is amazing.”

The mice on his shoulder squeaked in agreement and Blue purred in his mind, very proud of herself. Lance couldn’t stop the smile pulling at his lips.

“You’re amazing, Blue” he said. And yes, Blue was definitely preening now. Good. She deserved it.

The launch tunnel was directly in to his left and Blue was already turning to face it. He tried to make her run down the long tunnel, but Blue didn’t budge.

“Um, beautiful?” he said hesitantly, his smile wavering. “We kind of need to-NNGH!”

There was no warning. One tick Lance was fiddling with the controls to figure out how to get Blue to move, the next he was pinned to his chair by the force of the unexpected launch. He grimaced as he and Blue were literally flung from the Castle and out into space.

Or, not space, he realized in surprise, atmosphere. They must have made it to the Balmera. Then, if they were at the Balmera and the Castle was under attack like Lance suspected… He tilted the Blue Lion’s head up and, sure enough, there was a Galra battlecruiser. It hovered in the Balmera’s sky, the tell-tale purple glow from the ion canon fading.

But the battlecruiser was at an odd angle. There was no way it could have attacked the Castle from that angle. Why had it adopted such an unusual nose-high attitude? Was it intending to head back to a higher orbit without finishing off the Castle?

“What’s it doing?” Lance murmured, activating Blue’s propulsion so he could study the battlecruiser more closely.

As if in response to her paladin’s soft query, a small window appeared on the view screen to Lance’s left, attracting his attention. It was a zoomed in image of the forward hull of the battlecruiser. The Yellow, Green, Red, and Black Lions were currently braced against the bottom of the battlecruiser’s hull with their engines blasting at full power.

“They… they pushed it up?” he gasped.

That was kind of impressive. Battlecruisers weren’t easily knocked around. If only four Lions were able to change a fully armed battlecruiser’s trajectory, Lance could only imagine what all five Lions could do in tandem. And that was before forming Voltron. He still wasn’t even sure what this 'Voltron' weapon looked like. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

Lance flew the Blue Lion upwards in an arc so he could be seen by the battlecruiser’s bridge and prepared to open a general hailing frequency. If the Galra saw him fly directly into the path of their tractor beam at the same time they received his hailing frequency, they probably wouldn’t attack. Probably. He couldn’t be absolutely sure. Some commanders were just frelling smegs who lived to make people miserable.

He scanned the battlecruiser’s hull for any clear designation, hoping to identify the commander whose fleet this battlecruiser belonged to. Nothing yet. He wasn’t high enough. Oh well. He didn’t really care who was in command. He knew it was a Galra. Galra meant safety and home and-

 _“Paladins!”_ the princess’s voice shouted over the comms, startling Lance nearly out of mind. _“Get out of there. Now!”_

Lance had just enough time to blink in confusion before a warning shrieked in the cockpit and Blue took control from him. They swerved abruptly to the side before diving back down towards the Balmera’s surface.

“What the-” Lance cried, grabbing the controls and yanking them towards him. “No! Climb,” he pleaded desperately. “Don’t fall. _Climb!_ Come _on!”_

He managed to slow their descent and turn the Blue Lion’s head back so he could see what was going on through the view screen and-

…and…

“…no…”

A brilliant beam of the purest white he had ever seen blazed through the sky in a narrow, focused beam directly at the Galra battlecruiser. Lance knew battlecruisers like the back of his hand. He knew it was too slow to avoid the Castle’s counterattack. He knew the Galra knew they couldn’t avoid it. He knew his only chance of escape was about to go up in flames.

Literally.

With everyone on board. Galra. Druid. Slave. Everyone.

“No,” he whimpered brokenly, tears pooling in his eyes.

The beam burst straight through the battlecruiser’s hull, setting the sky aglow with white light. Too bright. Lance squeezed his eyes shut against the light. He was terrified when he could still make out the light through his closed eyelids as a red glow.

Then the light faded and Lance squinted at the view screen just as everything erupted in an explosion of light, fire, and debris. It took a few seconds for the sound and shockwave of the explosion to reach him and the Blue Lion. But when it did, he very nearly lost control and fell from the sky. As it was, Blue braced and rode the shockwave, allowing it to turn her body aside, but not throw her out of the sky.

Unfortunately, this allowed Lance to take in the total devastation around him. Every Galra fighter was obliterated by the massive explosion. Every single one. When the smoke and flames began to dissipate, he realized he was alone. The Galra were gone, defeated.

Everything he wanted, everything he needed… was gone.

“No,” he whispered. “No please.”

How many Druids had been aboard that battlecruiser? Had the Galra already been here before the Castle arrived? Or did they come here because of Lance’s frantic transmission begging for aid?

He gulped.

Was this his fault? Had he led the Galra, the Druids, his own brothers and sisters to their deaths?

And who the frakking frell was _cheering?!_

_“We did it!”_

_“Way to go Allura!”_

_“Nice going!”_

“Who the frakking frell is _CHEERING?!”_ Lance cried, wheeling the Blue Lion around so he could see the offenders. The other four Lions’ paladins. Of course. Who else would cheer for such a thing.

 _“Woah! Since when did the Blue Lion get out?”_ the yellow paladin’s voice crackled through the communications speaker.

 _“The Blue Lion! What’s it doing out here?”_ the red paladin’s voice said, sounding shocked.

_“I thought hooded crazy was still in the healing pod!”_

Lance vaguely recognized the sound of the green paladin’s voice through his pain and felt his blood boil. That stupid _child_ had already caused him so much pain. He’d start there first.

_“What do you want Druid?”_

The Champion’s suspicious face appeared in a new window on the right view screen. Lance took one look at it and snarled.

“You killed them,” he hissed.

Forget the green paladin. Forget that the Champion was Haggar’s favorite. The Champion was the leader, and he'd just lead his entire team to destroy a Galra battlecruiser and everyone onboard.

“You killed _all_ of them!”

Lance pushed the control yokes full forward and dove at the much larger Black Lion with a cry he barely recognized as his own. He could feel the Blue Lion’s roar of dismay in the back of his mind, attempting to calm him with her cool, comforting presence. But he wanted no part in it. He didn’t want to be calm or comforted. He wanted to be angry. He wanted to be _furious._

He wanted the black paladin, the Champion, to die.

* * *

When Shiro first saw the Blue Lion hovering in the air, he’d been momentarily afraid something had happened to the princess. But he’d just seen the Castle destroy the battlecruiser and the Blue Lion was already away from the Castle by that point. Then he heard that broken demand and forced a visual connection to the Blue Lion.

He’d been expecting to see a furious Druid with glowing eyes and haloed by an unholy, purple glow. He had not been expecting to see a boy perhaps Keith’s age with wide, horrified blue eyes and tears trailing down his face. The sight was so drastically different from anything Shiro had imagined that, for a moment, he didn’t know how to react. Without the usual, expressionless masks the Druids typically wore, the Druid boy actually looked… human.

The boy even had two of the princess’s mice on his shoulders. The mice didn’t look hurt or like they were afraid or forced to be there. Shiro wasn’t sure what to make of that.

Then those blue eyes locked on his own dark gray and the horror faded, replaced by the more familiar fury and hatred. Even though this reaction was what Shiro was familiar with, it looked so odd on a face that wasn’t Galra. But that temper was definitely Galra.

The Druid’s furious shout was the only warning Shiro got before he was attacked head on. The Black Lion was fast, but the Blue Lion was smaller and more agile. The Blue Lion’s paladin also seemed to have no problem attacking Shiro with its mouth gun. Shiro forced the Black Lion to duck the blast, but the warning bells in the cockpit showed him how close he came to getting the Black Lion’s face blown off.

“Damn,” he muttered.

 _“Shiro, look out!”_  Keith cried, swerving the Red Lion in between the Black Lion and the oncoming Blue Lion.

Shiro dodged but saw almost immediately that the Blue Lion’s pilot had no intention of slowing down.

“Keith!” Shiro shouted.

The red paladin’s grunt when the Blue Lion slammed directly into the Red Lion echoed through the team’s open communications.

 _“Hang on, buddy!”_ Hunk said _. “I’m coming.”_

The Yellow Lion appeared on Shiro’s view screen and clobbered the smaller Blue Lion with one, powerful thud. The Blue Lion rolled through the air but recovered quickly. It opened its mouth to fire another shot, this time aimed at the Yellow Lion only for the Green Lion to hit it first with one of its own shots.

“Guys, stop!” Shiro said urgently. “We can’t hurt the Lions. If they’re hurt, we can’t form Voltron!”

 _“Tell that to hooded crazy,”_ Pidge snapped, dodging a sharp, blue claw.

 _“Paladins stop!”_ Allura commanded suddenly. _“We have more important problems right now.”_

 _“Bigger than the Druid spy flying the Blue Lion and attacking us?”_ Keith demanded, swooping down under the Blue Lion’s belly with the Red Lion’s superior speed.

Shiro brought his Black Lion in to try to control the Blue Lion or at least keep it from seeking a higher altitude. The last thing they needed was for the Druid to slip out of their grasp and fly away. As long as they kept it near the surface, the Druid was limited in what it could do.

He, Shiro corrected. That face, those tears… He. The Druid was a boy. Not an ‘it’.

This wasn’t going to be easy.

* * *

Keith waited for the Blue Lion to raise its head to fire another shot at the approaching Black Lion before striking. He forced the Red Lion’s jaws to clamp down hard on the Blue Lion’s vulnerable, metal throat and then shook his own Lion’s head back and forth.

“What is your problem!” he demanded.

He didn’t get a reply in words at first, but the shout of fury was answer enough.

 _“You killed them!”_ the Druid snarled hatefully.

“Oh, so you _can_ speak,” Keith groused, a smirk growing on his face.

 _“Technically, we didn’t kill them,”_ Hunk said. _“The princess did.”_

_“Frak you!”_

_“Oh! Is that a curse word?”_ Pidge asked.

“Not important right now, Pidge,” Keith growled, tightening the Red Lion’s grip on the Blue Lion’s throat before tossing his opponent aside. “Right now, we need to-”

 _“What is that?”_ Hunk said. _“Another attack?”_

“What?” Keith gasped. “Where?”

He scanned the Red Lion’s view screens for any enemy ships and found nothing. Then something flashed in the upper left hand corner of his screen and he turned the Red Lion’s head to focus on it.

 _“Princess, what is that?”_ Shiro asked, sounding concerned.

 _“We’re not sure,”_ Allura replied.

“How much you wanna bet that Druid’s behind it,” Keith hissed, turning to glare at the Blue Lion.

 _“It’s going to hit the Balmera!”_ Hunk cried. _“We have to sto-”_

Too fast for anyone to react, the object crashed onto the Balmera’s surface sending a cloud of dust and pulverized rock in all directions. For a few moments, no one said anything, not even the Druid.

When the dust cleared, Keith saw the huge metal coffin standing upright on the Balmera’s surface. “Oh no,” muttered. “Not again.”

 _“Not another one!”_ Hunk moaned. _“We barely beat the last one.”_

 _“How are we going to handle this one plus hooded crazy in the Blue Lion?”_ Pidge said.

 _“Everyone relax,”_ Shiro said. _“If it’s the same as the last one, then we know how to beat it. It’ll take some work, but we can do it.”_

 _“But can we do it while fighting hooded crazy?”_ Pidge argued.

“Hey guys,” Keith said suddenly, staring at the coffin. “I think it’s opening up. Get ready.”

The metal box opened, each side falling to the ground. Hunk groaned over the damage to the Balmera, but Keith didn’t pay attention to it. He stared hard at the new giant robot and cursed.

“It’s not the same as the first one,” he said.

_“Shit. How’re we gon- WOAH!”_

The Green Lion barely dodged out of the way when a beam of electric green light burst from the robot’s chest. The Blue Lion wasn’t so lucky.

_“It’s attacking its allies?!”_

_“It may not be able to tell the difference,”_ Shiro said as the Lions flew in separate directions. _“It’s probably just firing at the Lions.”_

“Then what if we weren’t Lions?” Keith said suddenly.

_“Keith’s right. We have all the Lions now, Shiro. We could form Voltron.”_

_“Pidge, I-”_

_“Um, can we even do that right now?”_ Hunk said in exasperation.  

 _“Over my dead body,”_ the Druid hissed, diving into a mine shaft.

Keith growled in annoyance. “Well that answers that question. Any ideas on how to fight this thing?”

 _“Um, not die?”_ Hunk offered half-heartedly.

“We’re gonna die.”


	8. Unfair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lance is furious, betrayed, threatened, confused, and almost escapes. At least he learned a new word.

Lance landed the Blue Lion at the bottom of the mine shaft and fumed. How dare they. How _dare_ they. Did they really think Lance would just form Voltron with them and fight his own people? He still wasn’t even sure what Voltron was let alone how to form it. And even if he _did_ know what it was and how to form it, he wouldn’t do that and fight his people. His brothers and sisters, the innocents who were only on those ships because they had to be.

He couldn’t. It would destroy him.

Blue purred in his mind, sinking the cool water that was her quintessence through his pain and fury, easing it. She never dampened it or smothered it, but she helped him deal with it. Anger wasn’t an emotion Lance handled well. Annoyance, yes. Frustration, yes. Anger? Fury? No.

This was not just anger, either. It was a crippling fear and sadness that weighed on his heart, crushing his chest and making it hard to breathe. So many people had died right in front of him and there hadn’t been anything he could do to stop it. Worse, he was probably the one responsible for bringing that battlecruiser with everyone on board here in the first place. He’d led them straight to their deaths.

It was his fault.

His chest hurt. Lance curled in on himself, clutching his dull brown shirt over his heart and squeezing his eyes shut against the wellspring of tears. So many dead. They may not have been his charges, but he was a Druid and a Druid’s duty was to protect their own and the Galra in their jurisdiction. That battlecruiser had Galra on board and possibly a Druid or two.

Dead. They were all dead now.

And it was his fault.

He’d failed. He’d failed everything he was supposed to do. He’d failed to save more lives when the Castleship’s crew destroyed Commander Sendak’s battlecruiser. He’d failed to warn and defend Subcommander Haxus when the green paladin attacked them. He’d failed to find a way to sabotage the Castleship crew’s plans and escape to the Galra with valuable information. And now he’d failed to defend yet another battlecruiser from destruction.

At least Haggar had been wise enough to send one of her Robeasts here. Lance ground his teeth and prayed to everything he knew of that the Robeast destroyed the Castleship’s crew of murderers.

Blue whimpered and nudged him sadly. The hatred towards her faded, replaced by sorrow and despair. She wasn’t at fault. She’d protected him and been willing to allow him to pilot her to the battlecruiser. She was innocent. He wasn’t.

Blinking away tears, Lance lifted his head and stared dismally out through the Blue Lion’s view screens at the rock walls. At least it was dark down here. It didn’t give him a headache like the painfully bright Castleship lights had. However, because it was dark, he noticed the yellow eyes watching him from one of the tunnels branching out from the mine shaft much quicker. Galra?

Pushing the pilot chair back along the rails on the floor, Lance hurried to the back of the cockpit and climbed down the ramp in the Blue Lion’s mouth. The ground beneath him hummed in an unsteady pulse, like a stuttering heartbeat near death. He closed his eyes and focused his quintessence into the earth and let the pulses brush his delicate threads of self.

Interesting. Each pulse thrust quintessence through the stone less like a planet would and more like a life form. A dying life form. Each pulse sent less quintessence than the last. Odd. Something brushed his own strands of quintessence gently, almost like how his mother used to brush his hair out of his face. Stunned, Lance yanked his quintessence back into himself, and locked it there.

His wide, blue eyes stared fixedly at the ground beneath his feet in shock. What was that? That…  _thing_ was sentient. It was _alive_ and it _touched him!_ How…?

Yanking the strands of his quintessence back into himself, Lance stumbled back. That had been unexpected to say the least. But however much he wanted to investigate this new curiosity, there were more pressing things to deal with at the moment.

He stared up at the top of the mine shaft. Flashes of green light flickered along the stone walls accompanied by thunderous explosions that sent tremors through the ground. Lance sincerely hoped Haggar's new Robeast destroyed those murderous traitors.

Lance lowered his gaze back to the tunnel where the yellow eyes still watched him warily. Not Galra then. Had Lance still been wearing his distinctive brown robes and bone mask, then maybe he would understand the hesitance. The Galra, particularly the new recruits who were seeing Druids for the first time, were often scared stiff of them. The Galra in higher positions of the military such as subcommander and commander were, not comfortable exactly, but familiar with the silent Druids.

But if those eyes weren't Galra, then who...

One of the beings stepped out from behind a curve in the dark tunnel and Lance stilled, his eyes hardening. Definitely not Galra. They were Balmerans. 

"Are you with the one called Hunk?" a Balmeran asked hesitantly.

"Who?" Lance asked, mildly confused.

"This one was told the one called Hunk flew a giant yellow lion," the Balmeran continued, hope kindling in its eyes.

Ah. "No," Lance said curtly, his blue eyes cold with fury. "I am not with this Hunk." He made sure that all the hatred he felt towards the other Lions' paladins was clear in his voice. "I'll kill him if I see him."

The Balmeran flinched and retreated further into the tunnel. "You are with the Galra," it whispered in dawning fear.

"The Galra who were here are dead," Lance snapped angrily. “Your Hunk helped kill them.” The hurt from the destruction of the battlecruiser, still fresh in his mind, surged to the forefront when he saw a small spark of joy in the Balmeran's eyes. "You're happy they're dead," he hissed. 

"They hurt the Balmera," the Balmeran said, clenching a fist over its chest. "These ones felt the Balmera's pain day and night even when we knew neither day nor night. The one Hunk has promised to show these ones something called 'freedom.' This one wishes to see it."

"Freedom?" Lance scoffed in disbelief. "There is no such thing. There is the Empire and there is alone. There is nothing else."

"This one does not know you," the bold Balmeran said, stepping forward with a determined frown on its face. "This one does not hear your words." 

Lance frowned in confusion. 

"This one chooses to believe Hunk's words," the Balmeran continued fiercely. "This one chooses to hope."

This was dangerous, Lance thought hesitantly. Hope led to disappointment. Disappointment led to despair. Despair led to desperation, and desperation led to foolish decisions and, ultimately, death. 

Lance was a Druid. He may not have any specific charges anymore, but he was still a Druid. When they had no specific charges under their direct care, every Druid had one universal responsibility: protect the Galra. On a battlecruiser, that meant the actual Galra, the slaves, their fellow Druids, and, debatably, the drones. Here, now, that responsibility meant protect himself and the ideals of the Galra.

The Balmeran had spoken against the Empire. Lance could choose to ignore it. Had it been any other day or situation, he probably would have. Now, he chose to take it seriously and react accordingly. Eliminate the threat.

Channeling his quintessence into his hands, Lance advanced on the retreating Balmerans. The purple tinged energy sparked and sizzled in his veins, dancing along his nerves in a steady pulse that mirrored his own heartbeat. It was warm and fanned the flames of his hurt and anger and hatred. It whispered a promise of fury, of vengeance, of death. If he just gave in to it entirely-

_Cold!_

The quintessence winked out suddenly, stunning him with its abruptness. It was as if someone had flipped a switch deep within in his spirit and cut off his access to his own quintessence. He couldn't move his quintessence. He couldn't move _at all!_ Every single one of his channels were stopped cold, frozen solid. But how had...? Who could...?

Frigid water that sapped the very warmth of his core from his mind and body slipped over his sense of self, tightening like a net. The tighter the net squeezed, the harder it was to move, the think, to _breathe_. But she wouldn't... She'd _promised_ -

"Blue?" 

His voice was pathetically weak, a breathless whimper. She'd promised never to hurt him or let anything or anyone hurt him. She'd promised him, and she was the one to break that promise. Had she simply been unable to reach him in time to prevent harm, he could have forgiven her. But for her to be the one to inflict the pain in the first place... Deliberately!

Tears pooled in his eyes. All of his anger and fear and hurt switched their target from the cowering Balmerans fleeing down the tunnel to Blue. She'd promised! She'd lied. He _hated_ this. Everything hurt. 

A soft purr reverberated through his mind, filling his spirit with soft hurt and sadness and an unspoken promise that this was for his own good. He shook his head, ignoring that sensation. Those weren't his thoughts, they were Blue's and she _lied!_ His last ally had betrayed him.

He shouldn't be surprised.

Blue nudged him sadly, trying to send him her thoughts. Deliberately, Lance shut his eyes and focused everything he could still call his own on fighting her influence. 

Engines rumbled steadily louder as they approached him from above. Lance twitched, wanting to run, fight, anything, but he still couldn't move. The Blue Lion's hold on his quintessence was absolute. He wanted to sob, but he would not. He refused. Even though his heart was breaking.

The ground beneath his feet shuddered briefly then the engines cut off. Footsteps hurried across the ground towards him. Ah. So the Blue Lion had been holding him captive in his own body until one her allies could come capture him properly. How utterly unsurprising.

"Whatever you're doing, stop!"

Excuse me?

"I said stop!"

He literally wasn't doing anything. What the frell.

A hand grabbed him by the collar and shook him violently. Surprised, Lance opened his eyes and stared incredulously at the red paladin's wary face in front of him. Then the face was above him and why was that oh frell he was falling what?!

The muscles that had tensed up effectively halting his movement when the Blue Lion cut off his quintessence abruptly relaxed. Without any way to control them, Lance found himself hanging limply from the red paladin's grip. Not that it was any consolation, but seeing the red paladin's expression morph to awkward surprise at the total lack of resistance was slightly amusing. If Lance had been able to control his movements, he would've been hard pressed not to snicker.

As it was, he still couldn't move. At least he could breathe a little easier now. Kind of. Sort of. Ish. Now if only his heart would stop racing like a Galra fighter long enough for his chest to stop hurting.

"Wha- what the? What're you doing? Get up!" the red paladin demanded, shaking Lance.

Rude. Just because Lance couldn't fight back did not mean the red paladin could shake him around like a limp noodle. He was not a limp noodle. Although, he thought hesitantly, he wouldn't mind eating some noodles soon. He hadn't eaten in... How long had he been in that pod again? Why was he even thinking about this?

His stomach gurgled, loudly.

The red paladin blinked, his expression caught between befuddled and disgruntled. "You're... hungry?!" he squawked.

Lance blinked, leveling his captor with his best unimpressed stare. If only he could lift an eyebrow. Oh? Maybe he could. 

"We're in the middle of a battle and you're _hungry?!_ " the red paladin gasped, shaking his head as anger began to win over the disbelief in his expression.

"Hey, I haven't eaten in a while, okay?" Lance groused. “I think I’m allowed.”

Well, would you look at that? He could talk now. How nice of the Blue Lion to let him talk.

The cold that was once soothing throbbed with pain not his own. He ignored it. No reason to not take advantage of this while he could.

“Besides,” Lance added, feeling more than a little vindictive, “death and mass murder tends to make me hungry.”

The red paladin had the audacity to look disgusted. “You’re sick,” he said, releasing his hold and allowing Lance to crumble to his knees. “Only a Galra would get hungry from death.”

“You’re one to talk,” Lance snapped, focusing on tensing each muscle he could isolate. If he could just figure out what he did and did not have control over… Keep the idiot paladin distracted. “You just murdered over a hundred innocent people and cheered their deaths. If any of us is sick, it’s you and yours.”

“They were Galra,” the red paladin hissed.

“So what?” Lance snarled back.

“They attacked us. It was self-defense,” the red paladin snarled.

Frak. He had Lance there. …or did he?

“So the commander had his men attack you,” Lance said. “You didn’t have to obliterate them. That wasn’t even remotely a fair fight.”

Lance watched as the red paladin held his hand out by his right thigh. He blinked in surprise when a red and white device materialized in the paladin’s hand then transformed into a broadsword. A faint tingle of fear traced across his nerves before being swallowed in righteous fury and a soothing cold. He snapped his senses as far away from the cold as he could the moment he recognized it.

The red paladin pressed the edge of his blade against Lance’s neck. “We haven’t had a fair fight against the Galra since we met them,” he said.

“Mm, yes, I’m aware,” Lance drawled. “I was there. You blew us out of the sky for following you.”

“You _attacked_ us!”

“Yes, we were _ordered_ to engage,” Lance said, rolling his eyes in growing annoyance. “In case you hadn’t noticed, your Lions are a threat to the Empire. Besides,” he added with a shrug, glad his shoulders were his to control again, “there’s a reward for catching them and bringing them back to the emperor. Why wouldn’t we try to catch them?”

“You still attacked us,” the paladin pressed. “We didn’t do anything to you and you still attacked us.”

Lance looked directly at his assailant’s dark eyes -were they dark blue or gray, Lance couldn’t tell- and lifted both eyebrows this time. “And you’re a dirty, rotten liar,” he said. “You’re also incredibly stupid.”

The red paladin drew back in offense. “Ex _cuse_ me?”

Lance shrugged. “You’re excused,” he said easily.

He let his body roll back to the ground and swung his legs out and around, smacking the red paladin right behind the knees. Unfortunately, the way the red paladin fell sandwiched Lance’s legs between his thighs and calves rendering the Druid incapable of escaping. Oh well. He couldn’t escape on foot then.

Something flashed in the corner of his eye and Lance flinched, throwing himself back and yanking his arms and hands close to his chest. The red and white blade still barely missed him. It struck the ground too close to Lance’s face for comfort, sending bits of rock and dust into the air. Squeezing his eyes shut instinctively, Lance missed the tell-tale flick of the wrist that sent the flat of the blade smack into his face.

“Ow! What the frell!” he cried, clutching his aching nose. Thank the ‘Verse it wasn’t broken, he thought, feeling the tender cartilage. If there had been more power behind that smack… Lance shuddered at the thought. He liked his nose, thank you very much.

“You bastard!” the red paladin shouted, struggling to untangle their legs.

“Oh yes, very original,” Lance grumbled just loud enough for his attacker to hear. “Can’t take me down in a fair fight so you resort to attacking my lineage.” He rolled his eyes and flailed out with a balled fist. “Unfortunately for you,” he said, wincing when he felt his hand make contact with something too hard to be a face, “I don’t really care who my birth parents were.”

“Why are you-” the paladin managed to roll away and make a wild swipe at where Lance had been lying a split-tick ago, “ _damn!”_

“Why am I damn?” Lance said, getting to his feet as casually as he could.

The move wasn’t as smooth as he preferred courtesy of the traitorous Blue Lion still blocking off his quintessence, but at least he was standing on his own two feet and not toppling over or stiff as a battlecruiser’s hull. He felt heavy and jerky and uncoordinated. He needed his quintessence flowing through him. Without it…

Without it…

He _needed_ it.

“What an interesting word,” Lance teased, forcing his annoyance to the back of his mind. “Damn. What does that even mean? Were you complimenting me?”

Lance watched the red paladin get to his feet and charge him. So predictable. He telepo- _Erk!_

He ducked as fast as he possibly could with his limited movement. He still staggered when his stiff muscles protested the speed and agility he demanded of them. He gulped. For one tick, one terrible tick, Lance had forgotten his quintessence was firmly out of his reach and reverted back to his training. Taunt and goad, let the fool charge, dodge, attack the fool from behind, and disable or destroy depending on the situation.

He couldn’t teleport without his quintessence which made dodging a little bit difficult. No pressure. No, none at all. He just had no weapons and was being attacked by a fully armored paladin with a sword. Yes. Absolutely. Nothing to worry about at all. This was the very definition of a fair fight.

Lance grit his teeth and stumbled backwards trying to put some distance between himself and the furious red paladin. He couldn’t go very far before his back hit the stone walls of the mine shaft. Where was Blue in all this? Oh right. She wasn’t on _his_ side. She was sitting, pretty and calm as you please, on the opposite side of the mine shaft next to the equally quiet Red Lion watching the person she promised to protect be attacked in an unfair fight.

Fear slithered through Lance’s body. Rock behind him, a sword blade at his throat, an enemy paladin, the Red Lion and the Blue Lion behind the red paladin. No escape.

No. No, this wasn’t fair. He hadn’t done anything wrong. He just wanted to go home. He just wanted to see his family again, to see his home again. Why did his luck have to be as horrible as a Galra smeg? He was going to die here and-

Come to think of it, why wasn’t he dead yet? Why was his attacker just standing there with the blade at his neck?

“What are you doing?” Lance demanded, hyper aware of the prick of the blade against the soft dip in his throat. “Why haven’t you killed me yet?”

“Why?” the frakker holding the offending blade asked. “Do you want me to kill you?”

That- Well, to be honest… “I’m… not sure yet,” Lance reluctantly admitted.

That seemed to startle an emotion other than hate into the red paladin’s eyes. And really, that was getting old. Red paladin red paladin red paladin. Lance needed something else to call this person.

“Got a name?” Lance asked, trying to sound casual.

“Yeah.”

“Care to tell it to me?”

“No.”

“Oh. Well you’re no fun.”

The red paladin pulled the blade back and held out his arms in an exasperated wave. “What is _wrong_ with you?” he cried. “How can you be thinking about fun right now? I’m threatening you! That shouldn’t be fun!”

“It’s not really,” Lance said, tilting his head to the side now that the sharp prick was gone from his neck. “But, in my defense, I was thinking about food earlier. Still am, actually.”

The red paladin held out his hands like he wanted to strangle Lance, then made a choked grunt and covered his helmeted face with his hands.

“Also,” Lance added, holding up a finger and carefully edging to the side, “you aren’t really threatening me right now. We’re talking.”

“You’re. Insane.”

“I’ve been told that, yes,” Lance said, snickering and shifting to a more comfortable stance. “Mostly by my Masters and other Galra, but,” he shrugged, “I don’t let it bother me.”

“No,” the paladin said, lowering his hands into a gesture that meant he was trying to get Lance to understand something important. “I mean, you’re insane. Like _insane_ insane.”

Oh. “There’s another kind of insane?” Lance asked curiously, leaning slightly forward and stepping subtly further away.

The red paladin stared at him like he wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry before letting out a frustrated groan and covering his face again. “I can _not_ believe this is happening. This is insane. _You_ are insane. This whole situation is insane. Why am I _always_ the one to deal with the crazy ones?”

“Because you’re so good at it?” Lance asked from his new position by the dark tunnel’s entrance.

“That’s just _it_ though. I’m _not!”_ the red paladin said. “I’m _horrible_ at it. I suck at dealing with people. I don’t ge- Wait _stop!_ ”

Frak! Lance flinched back just as a red and white sword planted itself a hand span from his face. Before he could force his still stiff muscles to move correctly, the red paladin grabbed his left arm and wrenched it behind his back. Lance cried out when his arm and shoulder burned with pain. Why his left hand? Why _that_ one?

“Stay still and shut up,” his captor said.

“Frak you.”

“Yeah, that sounds like the Druid I know,” the red paladin said. Lance could practically hear the smeg rolling his eyes as he said that.

“You don’t know me,” he hissed, whimpering when the red paladin pulled his arm higher forcing him to arch his back in an attempt to ease the pain.

 _“Keith,”_ the Champion’s voice said through the static of a communicator. _“Keith, are you there?”_

“I’m here, Shiro,” Lance’s captor said curtly.

“So your name’s Keith,” Lance said slyly, and got a sharp jab for his trouble.

 _“What’s your status?”_ the Champion said.

“I’m fine,” the red paladin replied. “I landed the Red Lion by the Blue Lion. I have the Druid in custody.”

“No he doesn’t!” Lance shouted, groaning when his shoulder began to seriously hurt. “Keith’s a bastard.”

“I am not,” Keith said.

“You look like it.”

“How would you know what a bastard looks like?” Keith said incredulously.

“I know what I look like, you frakking Galra smeg.”

“So you admit it!” Keith said victoriously.

“I never denied it, you frelling idiot.”

“Oh.”

 _“Uh, did I interrupt something?”_ the Champion asked awkwardly.

“No!”

“Yes,” Lance said louder. “Keith’s a frakking Galra smeg.”

“Says you.”

“Um, yes, I did say that,” Lance said. “Weren’t you listening?”

_“Oh my god. You two sound like an old married couple.”_

The green paladin. All of the hatred and rage Lance had tempered returned to full boil. “Frak you to the Void,” he hissed. “Filthy saboteur.”

Lance shrieked when Keith pressed his full weight against his arm, pressing it into his back. “Do _not_ talk to my team like that,” Keith snarled.

It hurt it hurt ithurtithurt _ithurt!_ It hurt so bad Lance couldn’t find the breath to respond. He wanted his quintessence back. He needed his quintessence back. Tears of pain and anger brimmed his eyes. Think, Lance. _Think!_

“Damn you.”

Well, frell. There goes originality. At least he had a new word in his arsenal. He hoped it was a swear word. He would really hate it if ‘damn’ meant something like ‘what’ or something equally innocuous. That would be both embarrassing and annoying.


	9. Robeast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Keith isn't stupid, Lance learns something new, and then proceeds to maybe lose his mind? What just happened?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** I just finished going through and editing this chapter afternposting last night and... I am so sorry for the errors. I think I got them all, but geez. I tend to write in the evening to late night and post when I’m two seconds from falling asleep. I don’t know how I missed those errors, but I did. Let me know if y’all catch more errors so I can fix those too.

_“Calm down, Keith,”_ the Champion said. _“Don’t waste your energy. Right now, we need to figure out how to beat that thing and save the Balmera.”_

“Save it, my smeg,” the Druid snarked just loud enough for Keith to hear.

Keith ground his teeth and focused on _not_ maiming the Druid. He may not like it, but the Blue Lion had chosen the Druid as its pilot. Until he knew Shiro and the princess would be okay with it, he wouldn’t maim the Druid. However much he really wanted to.

At least holding the Druid like this made it easy for Keith to see the visual projection of his team hovering above his armored arm. That was something.

“We _do_ want to save it,” Keith snapped at the Druid. “Why else do you think we came here?”

 _“Keith!”_ Shiro said. _“Ignore him. He’s just trying to get a rise out of you. Don’t let him. We’re running low on time already, as it is.”_

 _“Shiro’s right,”_ Coran said suddenly, the advisor’s face appearing next to the image of Shiro, Hunk, and Pidge. _“The energy is draining from the Balmera too fast for us to help it.”_

Keith studied the new visualization that appeared in place of the video feeds of Coran and his team. The bright red and yellows of infrared heat coming from the projected image of the Balmera, a clear indicator of life, were fading to cooler blues and purples.

“What does that mean?” Keith asked, frowning at the image.

 _“It’s dying,”_ the princess said grimly. _“The Balmera is dying and there’s nothing we can do to stop it.”_

“Planets die every day,” the Druid grumbled. “That’s life. Get used to it.”

 _“You’re sick,”_ Pidge said, her face distorting in disgust when the video feeds reappeared.

“That’s what I said,” Keith agreed.

“It’s the truth,” the Druid snapped, trying to glare at Keith over his right shoulder. “There are billions of planets in the known universe, some inhabited, some not. Every single day planets are born and die. It’s a natural cycle. Get over it.”

 _“We will **not** get over it,”_ Hunk said, her eyebrows drawn down in a determined frown. _“We’ll stop it. We’ll save the Balmera and stop the Galra from destroying planets and enslaving people.”_

The Druid scoffed. “The fact you even think the Galra are responsible for the destruction of billions of planets just goes to show how little you know,” he said, looking away and glaring at the wall he was pressed against.

 _“I don’t think we can save the Balmera, Hunk,”_ Coran said gently. _“It’s lost too much of its energy. The best we can do at this point is evacuate as many Balmerans from its surface as we can before it collapses.”_

 _“What?”_ Hunk cried. _“No. We promised. Why can’t we save it?”_

 _“Unfortunately, the Galra took too many crystals from the Balmera,”_ the princess said, her eyes glittering with unshed tears. _"If too many crystals are taken from the Balmera without a rejuvenation ceremony to help it recover the quintessence it lost, then it can lose the ability to heal itself."_

 _"Right,"_ Coran said, nodding. _"_ _It_ _would be like taking a knife and systematically stabbing a person over and over again without pausing to heal the previous wound before inflicting another.”_ The advisor sighed and shook his head. _“Even if the individual wounds weren’t fatal, if too many wounds are allowed to go untreated, it would eventually cause the victim to bleed the death.”_

 _“Wow,”_ Pidge murmured, adjusting her glasses to hide her expression. _“What a terrible way to die.”_

“There’re worse ways,” the Druid said softly, earning him a glare from Keith. He met the glare with his own, even though he couldn’t turn his head all the way. “I’m just saying there are worse ways to die. And either way, the Balmera is still a planet. If it dies, there are others. There are always others.”

 _“That’s horrible!”_ Pidge said angrily. _“There are people on this Balmera. They’ll die if we don’t help them.”_

“Then why don’t you let me go so you can go help them yourselves?” the Druid snapped back. “Or, better yet, go save them then do us all a favor and then get yourselves destroyed by the Robeast.”

_“The what now?”_

_“Princess,”_ the Champion said, interrupting the budding argument. _“What do you need us to do? Could we ferry the Balmerans to the Castle in our Lions?”_

 _“No, that would take too long,”_ the princess replied.

 _“And even if you could do that, you would have to deal with that giant monster on the surface first,”_ Coran said. _“It’ll blow you and us from the sky if we try to save anyone right now.”_

 _“What if you land the Castle on the Balmera and evacuate the Balmerans directly?”_ Pidge asked. _“We could use the Lions to keep that robot monster distracted.”_

“It’s better than sitting here doing nothing,” Keith said, nodding unconsciously. “That’s a good idea.”

 _“Yes, it is,”_ the princess agreed. _“If you can draw that thing away and keep it busy, then Coran can land the Castle while I space jump to the Balmera’s surface and spread the word. That would be faster and more efficient.”_

 _“Um, I have a question,”_ Hunk said, raising his hand in the video feed. _“How are we going to keep you from being destroyed by that Robeast if we couldn’t even fight it on our own to begin with? I mean, we’re fast, but that thing has no blind spots. Like, none. How do you beat something like that?”_

“You don’t.”

“Shut up!” Keith hissed, putting more pressure on the Druid’s trapped arm until he heard a satisfying whimper. “We could use guerrilla tactics.”

 _“Good idea, Keith,”_ the black paladin said with a nod. _“Provoke and evade. We’ll lead it away from the Castle and keep it busy while Allura and Coran start the evacu-”_

A moan unlike any Keith had ever heard before echoed through the mine shaft just as the earth shook, cracking and splitting beneath his feet. It was enough to throw off his balance forcing him to stumble back. He released the Druid and flailed his arms, adjusting his stance to make it harder for him to fall over.

Something green and blue skittered between his feet. Two somethings. Allura’s mice. How were they here? He watched in confusion as the little mice made a bee line for the young Druid.

The Druid didn’t use the opportunity to flee. Instead, he gasped and eased his injured arm around to his chest, turning so his back pressed against the shaking wall. The ground beneath him cracked and split apart, knocking him to his hands and knees. His blue eyes glanced around the shaft in confused fear, his left arm braced against his chest.

His eyes locked on the green and blue mice and widened. Quickly, he leaned forward and scooped up the mice with his uninjured hand and cradled them close. When he looked up again, his blue eyes were terrified.

“What is going on?” the Druid said, his voice shaking though Keith couldn’t tell if it was from fear or the earthquake.

“I have no idea,” Keith said, shifting when the ground beneath his right foot lifted. “Guys? Are you feeling this?”

 _“We are,”_ Shiro said, sounding just as concerned as Keith felt. _“Coran?”_

 _“It’s the Balmera,”_ the advisor said. _“It’s beginning to collapse in on itself.”_

 _“The orange one speaks truly,”_ a voice Keith didn’t recognize said in the background. He couldn’t make out the rest of the words.

“Who’s that?” Keith said, relieved when the shaking began to subside somewhat.

 _“It’s the Elder,”_ Hunk said. _“She says this earthquake is the Balmera.”_

“Yeah, I got that,” Keith grumbled. “But what about those sounds? Is that the Balmera too?”

_“Yeah. The Balmera is crying.”_

“Don’t be ridiculous!” the Druid said, struggling to his feet. “Planets don’t cry.”

“It’s not a planet,” Keith said.

The Druid lifted a lone eyebrow in an expression that all but shouted _how dimwitted can you possibly be?_ Keith frowned and flushed beneath his helmet. How could this dumbass Galra Druid say so freaking much with just one stupid eyebrow? Damn it all.

“It’s not,” Keith insisted. “It’s alive.”

“Everything is alive, if you want to think about it seriously,” the Druid said, rolling his eyes. “Everything is alive in one way or another,” blue eyes locked on Keith’s, “and everything dies.”

 _“Not like this!”_ Hunk shouted through Keith’s video feed. _“The Balmera is a living creature.”_

 _“Yeah. And it’s dying because you Galra kept stealing its crystals,”_ Pidge said fiercely.

“A living-” The Druid hesitated. He laughed through the hesitancy clouding his gaze. “You’re joking.”

“He’s not joking,” Keith said sternly.

Blue eyes slowly grew wide in dawning understanding. “It’s… what?”

“You didn’t know?” Keith said incredulously. “How could you _not_ know?”

“How did _you_ know?” the Druid countered, his eyes still wide from the revelation. The mice in his hand squeaked softly. “It’s a rock! It’s a planet. Planets aren’t sentient. They don’t cry! How did- What made you think this thing was a sentient being?!”

“Hunk and Coran told me,” Keith said.

“Right. You had to be told,” the Druid said, shifting to a ready crouch. “I wasn’t told! In case you hadn’t noticed, I’ve been a bit busy trying to survive.”

 _“Guys!”_ Shiro shouted. _“Stop arguing. Princess, Coran, get the Castle ready to land. We’ll get back in our Lions and keep that Robeast distracted.”_

“Like frell I will,” the Druid said, leaning back against the shuddering stone wall still clutching his aching arm to his chest.

“That wasn’t a choice,” Keith snarled, stalking forward.

“And I didn’t take it as a choice.” Blue eyes narrowed angrily, ignoring the pleading squeaks form the mice. “I won’t fight with you.”

“You want to die here?” Keith cried, waving a hand to the crumbling mine shaft. “Because if you want to, that’s fine by me. But we’re taking the Blue Lion.”

“Fine!” the Druid snapped. “She betrayed me anyway. I don’t have the time or the energy to deal with more traitors.”

“Trait- What?” Keith shook his head and rubbed his eyes. “You know what? I don’t care. Screw you. Stay here and die. Let those mice die too, for all you seem to care. I’m going back up there with my team to save the Balmerans’ lives.”

Without another word, Keith advanced on the Druid, a part of him secretly pleased to see the fear blooming in them. He stopped abruptly just a few inches from the Druid’s body, very much in the Druid’s personal space, and glared hard. Then he grabbed his deactivated bayard from the ground where it fell after halting the Druid’s failed escape attempt, turned on his heel, and stalked back to his Red Lion.

He counted his steps, wondering how long it would take before the Druid realized Keith was serious about leaving him here on a dying, collapsing planet.

“Wa- Wait.”

Not long, apparently. Just eight steps.

“Wait!”

Running feet. Three. Two. Keith spun and activated his bayard. The Druid halted at the sight of the blade, holding up his right hand in a peaceful gesture as the mice clamored up to his shoulder.

“Were you serious?” he asked.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Keith said, refusing to lower his bayard.

The Druid hesitated, swallowing nervously. “This… planet… It’s really a sentient thing?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Keith said. “It’s a _dying_ sentient thing.”

Blue eyes shone in the dim light filtering down the mine shaft from the cloudy sun far above. It wasn’t something… It was strange, but Keith could swear he’d seen something like it before. On Earth.

The Druid shifted nervously, glancing briefly up the mine shaft, back at the tunnel behind him, then at the two small mice on his shoulder. For someone who could fight with space magic like some crazy bat out of hell, the Druid wore his thoughts and emotions openly on his face. No wonder he wore a mask. At least the mice liked him, which was weird but Keith wasn’t sure he wanted to think too much into that. There was such a thing as too weird, after all.

“If I help you defeat the Robeast, will you let me go?” the Druid said slowly, briefly petting the green mouse with his fingers.

“Why in the world would I do that?” Keith said. “Do I look stupid to you?”

The Druid hesitated, rubbing the side of his neck awkwardly. “Is that a serious question?” he asked. Keith fumed, and clearly the Druid noticed. “Look!” the Druid said quickly. “We both want to get out of here alive. I’ll help you fight off the Robeast, then I’ll leave.”

“The Blue Lion stays!” Keith hissed.

“Like I’d take her.” Hard blue eyes glared up at the silent Blue Lion. “She betrayed me.”

How does a Lion betray- You know what? Not important right now. “How do I know you won’t try to attack us like last time?” Keith said.

“Because if I did that, we all die,” the Druid said simply. “I want to live.”

As much as Keith hated it, that made sense. “Fine,” Keith said, deactivating his bayard. “Help us fight that Rothing-”

“Robeast.”

“Robeast,” Keith said, narrowing his eyes at the interruption. “Then I’ll take you to Shiro and the princess and let them decide what to do with you.”

“I- I would rather the Champion not be there,” the Druid said, a noticeable pallor in his tan face.

“Like I give a damn.”

The Druid hesitated, never looking away from Keith’s face. Finally, he sighed, letting his shoulders droop in defeat. “Deal.”

“Good. Now get your ass in the Blue Lion,” Keith commanded. “And if I even _think_ you’re going to turn on us, I’ll blow you the smithereens.”

The Druid flinched but hurried to the Blue Lion. Keith waited until he was sure the Druid was inside the Blue Lion before entering his Red Lion and taking off. This was going to be interesting.

* * *

This was not what he had in mind when he’d tried to escape. The point was to get away from the fight. Then Blue betrayed him and the plan became get away from the fight _and_ Blue. Now he was walking straight in the Blue Lion’s cockpit and flying after the Red Lion back into the battle.

Frak his life.

The Blue Lion nudged him, purring and mentally pawing at him in a pathetic attempt of asking for forgiveness. He wasn’t going to offer it. Not until she removed the blocks holding his quintessence out of his reach. He got the mental image of a giant blue cat folding its ears back and gazing up at him sadly. He ignored it, even though it pulled at his heartstrings.

He _wanted_ to forgive her, he realized. Why? She had promised to protect him, to keep him safe. Then she turned around and betrayed him? And she really thought he would forgive her? No chance in frell. He’d sooner be quiznaked by Zarkon.

He shuddered at the very thought. Why did that even occur to him? Great. Now he was going to have nightmares. Dear ‘Verse, have mercy.

No, really, have mercy.

For the first time, Lance got a good look at Haggar’s latest Robeast and felt all hope fall away. It was enormous and had eyes everywhere. It literally had no blind spot. This would very likely be the last battle he ever fought.

 _“Alright guys,”_ the Champion’s voice said over the communications. _“Provoke and evade! Go!”_

Provoke. Lance could do that. He fired a beam of blue energy from the Blue Lion’s mouth and instantly dodged. _Frakking quiznak!_ That thing was fast! Lance hadn’t had time to figure out the controls in the Blue Lion yet let alone how to maneuver and attack efficiently. This was ridiculously unfair.

Cold. He pushed the right control forward at the same time he pulled the left control back towards him, wincing when his shoulder twinged in remembered pain. Three green beams buzzed through the airspace the Blue Lion had just occupied and Lance breathed a sigh of relief.

Wait. How did he know to do that?

He shivered, and blinked. Wha- Since when was it so cold in the cockpit? He shuddered as the hair on his arms and neck stood on end. He could even see his breath come out in puffs of warmth. What was going on? An insistent pawing at the back of his mind finally drew his attention. But that- How did-

“Blue?” he whispered in awe.

The pleased purr rippled through his mind, pouring frigid water through his sense of self forcing him to shiver again. So cold. She wanted something.

Too bad. He was still angry with her.

_“Hey crazy! Watch out!”_

What?

He blinked, focusing his attention back on the main view screen -when had his attention strayed?- and just barely dodged a volley of green. Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to fully avoid the Robeast’s long metal arm. Metal struck metal, grinding loudly before the Blue Lion was tossed aside like a toy.

This wasn’t good.

Cold! Icy!

“Go away!” he shouted, pulling on the controls to get the Blue Lion back into the air and away from the approaching Robeast.

So cold. He could barely feel his fingers. Instinctively, he reached for the quintessence that flowed through him like lifeblood and screamed in fury and despair when he hit the Blue Lion’s barriers. He needed it. He needed the warmth, the power, the _life_ that was his quintessence. She was keeping him from it and he was fighting a weapon his own people created and he was losing and it wasn’t fair and it _hurt!_

Tears burned his eyes, freezing as they slid down his frosting cheeks. He could barely breathe. Something was pressing on his chest, squeezing his heart and compressing his lungs. He was gasping. The air was so cold it rubbed his throat raw like claws raking an already bleeding wound.

Why? Why did she hate him so much? He couldn’t breathe.

He squeezed his eyes shut and screamed a plea for mercy, for _help_ -

Silence.

_Water!_

Grip right, twist, pull back. _Ice!_ Squeeze, blue blast. Again. Roll. Again. Duck under Yellow. Roll around Green. Plant their paws on the stone, launch, duck, _ice, ROAR!_ Muffled sounds that were possibly words. It tugged at their attention, but they dismissed it. They only knew cold, attack, defend, dodge, _ice._

Water rushed through their veins, both organic and mechanical, with the speed and power of a flash flood. They were the arctic sea: old, deep, cold, and merciless. How dare this _thing_ attack their pridemates, their charges. Nothing mattered but their pride. Protect their pride. Protect their charges. Nothing mattered but defend. They would never stop.

Sadness for charges lost threatened to drown them. They let that fuel their attacks in a crashing wave of fury. They would not lose more charges. They _would not!_ They were the sea. They would not be defea-

A gale joined their waves, increasing their height and strength, pushing them before the storm. Black. They hit a sandbar further increasing their height. But there were also towering cliffs before them, unmoving to any force save the slow and steady decay of erosion. Yellow. Vines wove their way down the cliff face, rooted in the dangerous clash of water and stone. Green.

The earth far below their surface shifted, cracked, pulling them back to fill the new trench. But they would return. They would- H _eat!_ They roared in indignation as a volcano erupted from the sea floor, spewing hot ash and lava into the sky and their water. Red, they hissed. They loved their temperamental sibling, but must Red always disturb their spirit?

Yes. They must. They could feel the warmth of Red’s smugness sizzling just above their surface, so close but so tauntingly out of reach.

Green that wasn’t _Green_ struck their waves, instantly boiling their water and they screamed a roar of agony. So hot! This thing wasn’t of water. They could not fight this thing directly as they’d hoped, loath though they were to admit it. They needed… They needed-

Earth. Rock that was everywhere and could break into hundreds of thousands of tiny pieces that bombarded the enemy. They kept back waiting, watching, protecting. They would support while Yellow attacked. The _thing that should not be_ stopped its assault from everywhere and attacked them from one direction.

They wanted it destroyed. Crushed by frigid waves, frozen by glacial ice, drowned in the darkest depths. But Red was faster, lashing out with a fire and force an-

_“-did it!”_

What?!

He couldn’t see. He couldn’t _see!_

Colors merged and mixed, separating slowly. Sounds. So many sounds and voices and tones and squeaking and bells and- Too loud! He clapped his hands over his sensitive ears and whimpered.

Silence.

Cautiously, he let his hands slip away from his ears. He could hear his frantic, irregular breathing but otherwise it was silent in the Blue Lion’s cockpit. What…

“What happened?” he breathed.

He could feel his eyes open as wide as they could in the dimness of the cockpit, taking everything in as it all slowly returned to its usual sharpness. Four, tiny paws patted and brushed his cheek and neck, fur tickling his skin. The two mice were blessedly quiet but still obviously worried about him.

He let his fingertips pet the mice’s green and blue fur as he slowly gathered the pieces of his self and sanity and put them back together. He remembered fighting with the red paladin -Keith- and making a deal with him. Fight now, escape later. He remembered feeling the painful resistance when he reflexively reached for his barred quintessence when he feared for his life. He remembered pleading for help.

Then a mesh of elements and thoughts and senses that were and were not his own. He- _They_ were the ancient, arctic sea given physical form. They- _He_ had fallen below the waves and…

“What was that?” he whispered.

_“Nice job, Hunk.”_

“Champion?” he gasped in confusion. He remembered. “The Robeast!” he cried, bolting upright in the pilot seat.

 _“Destroyed,”_ the green paladin said smugly. _“Nice gun, Hunk.”_

 _“Thanks.”_ Lance could practically hear the yellow paladin’s smile through the audio. _“Although, honestly, I’m more impressed by the fact that not only did we form Voltron-”_

“Voltron?!” That was not a squeak. Honestly.

 _“-but that I’m a leg!”_ Hunk continued excitedly. _“A leg! I’m an actual leg! How awesome is that?”_

 _“Way to go, guys,”_ the Champion said proudly. _“Even you.”_

“You?” Lance repeated. A video appeared on the left side of the main view screen and Lance stiffened. “You.”

 _“You did good,”_ the Champion said, startling Lance. _“Thank you for helping us.”_

“…uh… Um, you’re… welcome?” Lance stuttered in utter confusion.

The Champion smiled - _terrifying!_ \- then frowned. _“Are you alright?”_ he asked, sounding concerned.

Lance started to shake his head before quickly nodding. “Fine! Fine. I’m fine.”

 _“Real convincing,”_ the green paladin drawled, their face appearing in another video next to the Champion’s.

 _“Pidge, not now,”_ the Champion said sternly but gently. _“Let me talk to him alone for a minute.”_

Pidge rolled their eyes but their image vanished, leaving Lance all alone in the Blue Lion’s cockpit with Champion. He gulped.

 _“Are you sure you’re alright?”_ the best gladiator in the Galra Empire’s history asked. If Lance didn’t know better, he would have thought that tone sounded almost fatherly. _“You sort of dropped off our comms there for a bit. We were worried.”_

Lance scoffed despite his fear and uncertainty. The Champion’s frown deepened, then he sighed. _“Call me Shiro,”_ he said.

Lance blinked. “What?”

_“Shiro. That’s my name. Everyone calls me that.”_

Lance shook his head. “Why are you telling me this?” he said suspiciously. “I thought I was your enemy.”

 _“You helped us form Voltron and save the Balmera,”_ the Champion said, a soft smile tugging at his lips. _“You deserve to at least know my name. I also wanted to thank you and find out if you were alright.”_

“Yes, so you’ve said,” Lance said cautiously.

_“Keith told me about your deal.”_

Oh no.

_“Why don’t we go back to the Castle and talk about it in person.”_

That wasn’t a request and Lance was terrified. If he still had his quintessence, he probably wouldn’t be afraid. Nervous, but not afraid. Without his quintessence, he was frakking terrified. He’d seen some of the Champion’s battles and knew without a doubt that he would die before he ever got the chance to run.

“How about we not?” he asked hopefully.

The Champion sighed, his shoulders rising and falling steadily. _“This isn’t my decision to make,”_ he said. _“I may be the paladin of the Black Lion, but this isn’t just my decision. We’re a team. We make decisions together.”_ A small smile. _“If you want to join our team, you can.”_

Lance stared at the Champion, blank-faced. Lifted an eyebrow in disbelief. The Champion had the decency to chuckle. Smeg.

 _“Just come back with us,”_ the Champion tried again. _“We’ll talk it over and if you still want to leave after that… We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”_

What did bridges have to do with anything? What does that even mean?

_“Could, um…”_

Lance sat back, eyeing the Champion’s image suspiciously.

_“Could you tell me your name? You know mine. Could I know yours?”_

…

What the frell. He was probably going to die anyway.

“Lance,” he said in a small, uncertain voice.

The Champion’s relieved smile was warm and genuine. _“Nice to meet you Lance.”_


	10. Shield

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lance comes out to potential allies, faces an enemy, and is still so hungry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** This chapter is shorter than the last couple but it was the best place to cut it off in my opinion. Although maybe not in y'all's opinions, if you know what I mean~

Separating from Voltron -when had they combined in the first place?- wasn’t the most pleasant experience. But hey, it could be worse. It felt like something in him was lost. Or, not lost so much as taken away for a while. Like waving goodbye to one of his siblings as they left for a mission they may or may not come back from.

He had so many questions. The first one was pretty simple: what the quiznak just happened?

No, but seriously, what. The. Quiznak. Just happened? Lance couldn’t remember hardly anything after screaming in terrified pain. The pain was still there in the back of his mind tangled with his spirit like a knot in just the wrong place. It tugged on his movement, seeped into his muscles, and weighed on his heart and mind. He needed his quintessence. He _needed_ it.

Quintessence was life. To have it taken away was a death sentence. To have it cut off was… torture. He wondered how long he would last?

Water rippled in his spirit. It was a question he wasn’t sure he knew the answer to. So he ignored it. Hurt that wasn’t his own nudged him accompanied by the mental image of a big blue lion crouching sadly in front of him, its eyes dim, its ears folded back, and its tail dragging on the ground.

He lashed out at the Blue Lion with all the hurt and terror he felt lingering like oil on the surface of the ocean. If she wanted forgiveness and his understanding of _for his own good_ , then she needed to know what cutting him off from his quintessence was doing to him. She deserved to know his pain. She deserved to know what she was doing to him. If she really wanted to keep her promise, then she needed to release her hold.

She was killing him slowly. He’d rather just slit his wrists and be done with it if she kept this up.

He felt the sensation of the Blue Lion reeling back in awful shock. Confusion and disbelief flooded his mind. She hadn’t known. She didn’t mean to. She just hadn’t wanted him to attack those innocent Balmerans in the mine shaft. They hadn’t done anything to him.

Maybe they didn’t, he admitted reluctantly. But doing nothing was often just as bad as doing something. It was condoning the act being done by others. They also cheered the deaths of so many innocents on the destroyed Galra battlecruiser along with the other paladins of Voltron. They deserved to suffer too.

No, they didn’t, she insisted. They didn’t have the technology to join the fight. Even if they had, the Blue Lion doubted they would have actively joined the fight. The Balmerans were inherently peaceful just like their parent Balmera.

Lance frowned. He had to admit, she presented a good argument. But she still hadn’t released the hold on his quintessence, so could he really trust her? _Should_ he trust her?

He felt the Blue Lion’s faint pleading hope tickling his senses and sighed. What she was doing to him hurt. But rejecting her hurt too. This wasn’t the best situation to be in, although Lance had been in worse. Curiosity tinged with a deceptively dangerous threat tugged on that thought as the Blue Lion demanded to know what he meant. Who dared hurt _her_ paladin? He was _hers._

Lance froze, figuratively and literally. She… What? She wanted… revenge? How very, he smiled, Galra of her.

She cringed, her mental presence retreating in shocked offense. Lance blinked. Offense? Why offense? The Galra weren’t evil. They were generally rather honorable. Why was she so against being compared to them?

_“You coming out any time soon?”_

The Champion’s -Shiro’s- voice jerked him from his thoughts. Lance lifted his gaze to the Blue Lion’s view screen and flushed. All of the other paladins were already out of their Lions and standing on the Balmera’s surface. The glistening white Castleship stood behind them, gleaming in the cloudy light of the Balmera’s atmosphere.

It was pretty. If only he could feel comfortable with that thought. All he could think of when he saw the Castleship now was death, destruction, and fear. The Blue Lion purred, mentally nuzzling him, offering him comfort the only way she could.

He sighed and hung his head, relieved the Champ- Shiro hadn’t contacted his visually. The black paladin had kept his message audio only, giving Lance the time he needed to mentally and emotionally prepare himself. That was something, he supposed.

A tiny paw patted his cheek and he turned his head to the little mice on his shoulder. The green mouse squeaked, tilting its head slightly as if to ask what he was going to do. If only he knew. The tiny blue mouse was standing on its hind legs, touching Lance’s face with one of its forepaws, and staring up at Lance with wide, concerned eyes. It squeaked softly in what Lance took to be an _are you alright_ in mouse. He sighed. If only he knew the answer to that too.

Well, might as well get this over with. “Coming,” he said to Shiro.

The window indicating an audio communication vanished and Lance took a deep breath before standing from the pilot seat and exiting the cockpit. He strode down the walkway in the Blue Lion’s mouth to the Balmera’s surface. Four helmeted faced stared at him distrustfully. Only Shiro smiled and stepped towards him.

“I’m glad you decided to come out,” Shiro said, a weary smile on his face. Lance could still see the distrust in the black paladin’s eyes, but he was fine with that. It wasn’t like Lance trusted the black paladin or anything. Besides, better to be mistrusted then attacked, he supposed. Without his quintessence, Lance was essentially a sitting yelmor.

“Hello,” he said.

His lips twitched upwards despite his attempt to smother it when the mice on his shoulders chittered a greeting as well. They may be the princess’s friends, but it seemed that they were comfortable being his allies, for now anyway. At least he wasn’t entirely alone in this.

The Blue Lion grumbled in his mind, sloshing her watery presence around in his mind deliberately. Lance hesitated. He wanted to believe he had her as an ally too. He really did. But-

WhY wAs ThE cHaMpIoN cOmInG cLoSeR?!

Lance stumbled back, instinctively raising his arms and adopting a defensive stance. Shiro stilled, his dark gray eyes wide. The other paladins drew their alchemic weapons but Shiro waved them back. The Champion slowly lifted his hands, palms outward, in what Lance hoped was a peaceful gesture and not something else.

“It’s okay,” Shiro said, choosing his words carefully. “We’re not going to attack you. I promise.”

“Hm, yeah, no. Don’t believe you,” Lance said. “The last time someone made a promise to me, they broke it.”

Take that Blue.

The hurt whimper in his mind tugged at his heartstrings leaving him feeling like he’s just punched a newborn. Well frell, now he felt like a jerk.

Interestingly enough, Shiro nodded. “I understand,” he said. “Well, not really,” he shrugged helplessly, “but I know what you mean. How ‘bout this then? You have my word we won’t attack you unless you attack us first. Sound fair?”

Lance mulled over the Champion’s words carefully before easing his stance. “Not really,” he admitted, “'cause I’m not sure what people like you would consider an ‘attack.’ But I guess that’ll do for now.”

Shiro blinked, taken aback, but nodded nevertheless. “Okay, I’ll take that,” he said, lowering his hands. He looked over his shoulder at the princess leaning on a group of Balmerans standing under the Castleship. Was something wrong with her?

“If you could help us make sure everyone’s safe,” Shiro continued, returning his gaze to Lance, “then later we can talk about the deal you made with Keith.”

He was quiznaked.

“Fine,” he said, his shoulders drooping.

He moved cautiously, making sure every move he made was within the paladins’ line of sight. If he was going to die, he’d rather it happen over a legitimate reason. Dying due to a misunderstanding was just ludicrous. He would never live that down.

Er… Well, he wouldn’t live that period. He snorted at his own personal joke, ignoring the strange looks he got from the yellow and green paladins.

“Um, you okay man?” the yellow paladin asked, startling Lance.

He glanced at the larger paladin strangely, then snickered. “Nothing, just cracking myself up, is all,” he said, waving away the paladin’s concern. “Don’t worry about it.”

Instead of pressing like Lance assumed he would, the yellow paladin shrugged and said, “Oh, well be careful. It’d be awkward if you were an egg.”

What? “Excuse me?” Lance said, staring at the paladin in utter confusion.

“Well,” the paladin said casually, “if you were an egg, cracking yourself up would be bad. Since you’re not an egg, I’m gonna assume you’re fine.”

Lance stilled, his eyes wide. That… was _so frakking clever!_ How had he never thought of that comeback before?

“Hey,” the yellow paladin called back over his shoulder when he noticed Lance had stopped moving. “You comin’?”

Lance grinned. “Yeah,” he chirped, feeling unusually light hearted. “Just appreciating a good joke when I hear one. Don’t get that much on the battlecruisers. The Galra are so serious.”

Frak! He’d said too much. He clamped his mouth shut and looked anywhere but at the paladins. For some reason, his eyes settled on the downed Robeast some distance away. He absently wondered who or what had given their quintessence to Haggar for her to use as a base for this particular Robeast. It had certainly been formidable and its primary advantage had been its lack of blind spots. That mean whatever she’d used had been heavily reliant on its eyesight. Interesting. Well, whatever it was, Lance was just glad they’d defeated it.

Come to think of it, had they defeated it? Lance had been under the impression Robeasts had to be completely and utterly destroyed in order to thoroughly sever Haggar’s influence from them. This Robeast wasn’t destroyed. It was still mostly intact.

He paused again, turning to face the Robeast directly. He frowned when he tried to reach for it with his quintessence and slammed into the Blue Lion’s mental blocks again. He did his best not to whimper.

If he had his quintessence, then he may have been able to touch the Robeast’s quintessence to make sure Haggar’s influence was gone. Because if Lance’s suspicions were right and the influence was still there then-

_It moved!_

“I thought you said you destroyed it!” Lance cried in terror.

“What?! Fuck!” he heard Keith shout.

“Oh no,” the yellow paladin groaned.

“It’s still alive?!” the green paladin gasped.

“No,” Shiro murmured just loud enough for Lance to hear. “Coran, princess, take cover!”

No. No no nononononono!!! This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t _happening!_ Lance scrabbled desperately at the mental barricades blocking his quintessence. He needed a defense. _Any_ defense. He didn’t want to die! No! He was so close to finding a way back home. He couldn’t die here. Blue! Blue _please!_

The Blue Lion roared both in his mind and in the real world and Lance was suddenly drowning in his quintessence. He barely had enough time to fully comprehend that fact before the Robeast was back on its feet and glowing a poisonous green. It took almost all of Lance’s concentration not to revel in the addicting ebb and flow of his quintessence in his spirit.

He was whole now. He may not be the most skilled of Druids and he may struggle in some basics, but there was one thing he was good at: shields. This may be the last thing he ever did, but, then again, it may not be. Maybe Haggar would feel his quintessence through her influence and halt the attack. Maybe not.

It was worth the risk. Besides, he _really_ didn’t want to die.

He narrowed his eyes and slid his right leg back, bracing himself. Then he lifted both hands and extended his arms in front of him, taking care not to lock his elbows. The Robeast straightened and the green eye in its chest brightened as it powered up its attack. Lance waited.

A beam of concentrated green energy blazed from the eye, racing across the expanse towards them.

Almost there. Wait.

Closer.

Lance pulled his quintessence into his arms, focusing it in his hands. An orb of purple tinged white formed in the space just in front of his palms.

Closer.

Now.

Lance launched his quintessence out from the orb in a concave curve, not too big and not too wide.

Impact.

It _hurt!_ _Hold! Hold! Hold!_

He could feel his arms locking to keep from being forced back. His anchoring foot pressed deeper and deeper into the ground. He tensed his muscles and braced himself, forcing his body to hold his stance. If he broke his stance, he would lose his shield. He would _not_ lose his shield. He had to _hold!_

He couldn’t hold.

He didn’t want to die! Someone… Anyone… help… please…

Blue quintessence crashed through his channels without warning, sparkling like the sun on the ocean and deadly as a rip tide. It froze his veins and drowned his senses until there was nothing but blue and his shield. Oh. Huh. His shield actually _was_ blue now. That was new. ...wasn’t it?

Something touched his quintessence. Two somethings. Sentience. One from beneath his feet and the other through his shield. The first sentience was unknown to him. The latter, however, he recognized and hoped against all hope that Haggar recognized his sentience as well before it was too late.

His shield cracked.

_No!_

It stopped.

He staggered, his body crumbling limply to the ground when his aching muscles suddenly had nothing pressing on them. He landed hard on his knees and caught himself with his hands before collapsing completely and eating dirt. His entire body twitched and he was gasping from exertion. Everything was blurred and muffled like he was being smothered or…drowned…

Sounds, voices? What were they saying? Was it important?

Hands grabbed his shoulders and pulled him up so he sat back on twitching legs. Who? His back thumped against something solid and warm, warmer than his own body. _So cold._ He shuddered.

His head hung weakly and it took everything he had to stay awake. A voice he knew shouted something close to his ear, but it was too muffled to make it out. He barely managed to lift his head but he was glad he did.

The Robeast was, well not destroyed, but definitely incapacitated. Giant crystals, larger than any Lance had ever seen in his life, were growing from the Balmera. So fast. He could hardly believe his eyes as the crystals continued to grow in and around the Robeast, completely encasing it. One of the crystals punctured the Robeast’s chest eye. It roared, the green glow shining fiercely. Then the light faded completely and it was silenced.

“How…?” he breathed, his voice so faint he could barely hear it himself.

“I-…Balmera…-nd…Lan-…” That sounded like Keith. Was Keith the one holding him?

“Wha…” He stopped trying to speak and just let his head fall back against Keith’s chest. At least he hoped it was Keith. Or the yellow paladin. He seemed nice. Lance still didn’t trust the green paladin yet and the Champion was too scary.

Lance took a shaky breath and closed his eyes. He’d overexerted himself. He’d done that before, most Druids had at one time or another. But he’d never drained himself this far before. He was still so cold…

Blue.

He twitched, his eyelids fluttering when the sentience he didn’t recognize brushed his quintessence once more. It was soft and living and warm like a caress. It didn’t attack him so much as just brush him curiously.

What…?

Wait. He did know this sentience. He’d felt its quintessence briefly in the mine shaft. Was this… the Balmera?

Blue.

A purr rippled his spirit, tugging him down into the cool depths. So tired.

Naturally, that’s when his stomach grumbled loudly and painfully. He wanted food so bad. Quintessence depletion required rest, food, and water to aid in the recovery. He still managed a small smirk when he heard Keith groan.

He liked Keith. So… much fun to… tease…

Blue.


	11. Explain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Keith is blown away, Lance wakes up, and a conversation becomes...many other things, including making the Red Lion jealous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** Ok. I don't think I should have to do this, but just in case: anyone who _hasn't_ watched Season 3 of Voltron, beware of _**SPOILERS**_ from here on out.
> 
>  **Side note:** Eye shine is the strange glow animals' eyes make when they're in the dark and lights hits them. You know how deer eyes gleam when they stare into a flashlight? That's eye shine. It happens frequently in species that can see well in the dark. No, Allura and Coran don't have this. Just Lance. Or is it just Lance~?

The first thing Keith thought when the Robeast powered up its chest eye to fire was _oh shit._ That thought quickly became a more colorful _holy fucking shit!_ when a purple half dome materialized between himself and the green death ray an instant before impact. When the death ray hit the shield, the result was a blinding light, a deafening roar, and a gust of wind like from an exploding battlecruiser. He raised his arms to protect his face from any flying debris and shade his eyes from the overwhelming brilliance.

When he lowered his arms a few seconds later, he followed the shield to its point of origin and gasped. The Druid was holding up the shield. Why? Damn, forget why, fucking _how?!_

The Druid’s feet were sliding back as the force of the impact bore down on his shield, causing it to waver. Keith braced for hell. Then the Blue Lion roared and the Druid’s shield changed from Galra violet to a pale shade of blue and stopped wavering. The Blue Lion was doing this. _How_ was the Blue Lion doing that? How was the _Druid_ doing it?

Whatever, _however_ it was happening, it was working. Then the shield cracked, the fracture glowing a blinding white. But before it could shatter completely, the attack stopped. Stunned, Keith lowered his arms and stared at the Robeast, his mouth dropping open. Enormous blue-green crystals erupted from the Balmera’s surface, piercing the Robeast’s chest and head and encasing it entirely.

Well, _that_ happened.

A dull thud yanked his attention back to the Druid who was on his hands and knees and shaking like the proverbial leaf. Keith caught the Druid before he fell to the ground in a dead faint. The Druid moved too easily in Keith’s hold, slumping against his chest with what sounded like a mumbled question.

“Guys,” Keith called to the others, “I think the Balmera's defending us.”

“Yeah,” Pidge breathed, her eyes staring up at the crystalline prison in awe.

“Woah! So cool!” Hunk crowed.

Footsteps approached him from behind and he turned to see Shiro standing over him. “Keith,” the black paladin said, crouching by Keith’s side. “What happened? Is Lance alright?”

“Lance?” Keith looked down at the semiconscious Druid in his arms in confusion. “His name’s Lance?”

“Yeah,” Shiro sighed. “Yeah, he told me when I asked.”

Keith frowned, his shoulders slumping in a sulk. “He didn’t tell me,” he muttered.

A grumbling sound interrupted his brooding and Keith groaned. He rolled his eyes and stared down at Lance in disbelief. “Really?” he said. “Are you kidding me right now?”

He swore he saw the Druid smirk before falling limp. What kind of name was Lance anyway? Crazy Druid.

* * *

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but waking up on a soft bed with a pillow under his head and a blanket over his body was definitely not one of them. Not that he was complaining because _wow_ was this an improvement to the past several quintants living in the vents. It did smell a bit musty, but nowhere near the nasty wet Galra smeg smell in the warm vents in particular.

It felt so good. Lance never wanted to move. Okay, maybe he would move a little bit, but only enough to cocoon himself in the blankets and pillows in a makeshift nest. It wasn’t as comfortable as his nest back home, not to mention quieter without his siblings to cuddle with. But at least he felt rested and safe.

Which begged the question: why did he feel safe? Wasn’t he a captive or something? He was a captive, right? Or did he miss something?

Cautiously, he opened his eyes, and immediately regretted it. He gasped, squeezing his eyes shut and rolling his face into his pillow with a groan.

“I thought so.”

Frell, he wasn’t alone. He stiffened, gripping his pillow with his fists. He knew that voice. It was that annoying red paladin who tried so hard to break his arm in the mine shaft on the Balmera. Water rippled when the Blue Lion nudged the blurred memory of being held after nearly losing consciousness from holding his shield. Huh. So it _had_ been Keith who had held him then. Good to know.

The dull red glow behind his eyelids from the light in whatever room he was in dimmed abruptly and he eased his eyes open again. This was much more tolerable. He turned his head so his ear rested on the pillow and he could see out into the room.

The first thing he saw was four furry faces staring at him with varying expressions of concern. The tiny blue mouse patted his nose and squeaked drawing a smile from Lance. The blue mouse mirrored the smile and looked back over his shoulder to chitter at its three companions.

The green mouse approached first, bopping the blue mouse on the head in a friendly fashion and poking Lance’s nose. Lance blinked, not sure what to make of that. The pink mouse came next, making a series of short chirps and high pitched squeaks. If Lance didn’t know better, he’d swear by Prince Lotor’s nice smeg that he was being lectured.

He gave the pink mouse a flat, unimpressed stare. Who wanted to wake up to a lecture first thing in the morning? Not Lance, that was for sure. Pity the pink mouse disagreed. The little creature chittered, scampered right up to his eye, and poked his eye scale causing him to flinch.

What the-? Rude.

The last mouse to approach was the larger blue mouse. It crawled forward slowly, clearly more wary of Lance than its companions. It tilted its head and made one squeak before sitting itself down on the blankets behind the others.

The pink mouse looked over its shoulder to scold the bigger blue mouse but it turned away as if to ignore it. Tough luck, little squeaker. That pink one’s got spirit. He snorted when another dismissal from the blue mouse earned it a swat on the head by the pink mouse. The tiny blue mouse curled by Lance’s face made a chittering sound that Lance just knew was laughter and decided this one was his favorite. He and the tiny blue mouse would get along just fine.

“Aw, that’s so cute,” someone said and Lance stiffened.

Cautiously, Lance lifted his gaze from the mice to the room beyond. Keith stood by what Lance assumed was the light controls on the wall while the yellow and green paladins stood by the princess and the odd mustache man. But where was-

“Hey,” the Champion said, crouching so he was in Lance’s direct line of sight. “How’re you doing?”

 _“What the quiznak?!”_ Lance cried, bolting upright and scrambling back in the bed until his back hit a wall, sending the mice skittering away. He whipped his gaze to either side of him and paled when he realized he was in a nook bunk. No escape. Terrified, Lance turned back to face his captors -because, yes, he was definitely a captive in this situation, comfy bed be frakked- and gulped.

The mice clamored over the folds in the blankets towards Lance, the tiny blue mouse leading the way. They never stopped squeaking until they were all perched on top of Lance’s bent knees. At least the mice came back to him instead of running away and leaving him alone. That was nice of them.

“Um,” the yellow paladin said, raising his hands and taking a cautious step towards the bed. “We’re not going to hurt you. We just want to know if you’re alright.”

Not going to hurt him? Like Lance would believe that. Wait. Maybe he could.

He took a deep breath and felt for his quintessence as he breathed out through his nose. It was there, flowing through him, but it was different. Felt different. Not wrong, just… different. It didn’t feel like lightning and oil. It felt like an icy river that moved too fast to freeze solid. There were still hints of the lightning and oil along the edges of the quintessence’s river banks, but otherwise they were gone. Dredged out.

Well, no dobosh like a tick.

He tugged on his quintessence, shuddering as the ice slid through his veins. He held up a hand and willed the quintessence into his fingertips. When his fingers glowed a soft blue instead of the usual purple tinged white, Lance stared in fascination. That was unexpected. Even the mice seemed to be impressed by the display. The tiny blue mouse even went so far as to touch Lance’s glowing hand and-

Was that a whistle? Did that mouse just whistle? What sort of crazy ‘Verse was this?

“Shiro!”

“It’s alright Keith,” the Champion said, holding up a hand to ward off any sudden movement from his team. That’s right. Lance remembered the Champion had asked to be called Shiro. “I think I know what he’s doing.”

“But-”

“Relax,” Shiro said, meeting and holding Lance’s gaze. A faint smile touched his lips. “It’s okay.”

Lance furrowed his brow and worried his lip with his teeth. But when Shiro made no move to stop him, he relaxed, allowing the tension to seep from his shoulders. He lifted his gaze and quintessence wreathed hand to the yellow paladin and said, “Did you mean what you said? You promise not to attack me?”

The yellow paladin’s eyes were so wide that Lance could see the white around their pupils. The paladin gulped but nodded. “Y-yeah,” he said. “I promise.”

The blue never wavered.

“What’s your name?” Lance asked.

“Oh! Uh, Hunk.”

Lance blinked incredulously. “Hunk?” he repeated. “What kind of name is that?”

Hunk shrugged. “It’s a nickname that stuck,” he said casually. “Besides, I kind of like it so, yeah.”

“Oh-kay,” Lance drawled. “Then am I a prisoner?”

“That depends,” Keith said, drawing Lance’s attention and blue haloed hand. “Are you going to attack us or the Castle or the Lions?”

Lance pressed his lips together in a thin line. “Not unless I have to,” he admitted. Keith’s gaze hardened but he didn’t press, which only made Lance more curious. “You said you ‘thought so’ about something earlier,” Lance continued. “What did you mean?”

Keith’s frown eased a bit. “You don’t like bright lights,” he said.

“I don’t,” Lance agreed, a thoughtful frown on his face. “How did you know?”

Keith shrugged. “Back in the mine shaft, I saw you had eye shine.”

“I-I had what?” Lance asked in confusion. “What’s eye shine?” Should he? He really shouldn’t. Aw, frak it. “I mean I know my eyes are gorgeous and all, but I get the feeling that’s not what you meant, Keithy-Keith.”

Well. That was… certainly something. Lance had to roll his lips in, bite his tongue, and hold his breath to make sure he did not laugh. The mice didn’t bother to hold back their squeaky giggles. Before their very eyes, Keith’s face went from pale to bright red in a split-tick. The red paladin’s hands clenched into fists which he kept stiffly by his sides as his entire body visibly shook. Definitely worth it.

“Ex _cuse me?!”_ Keith shouted.

Oh. Familiar territory. “You’re excused,” Lance chirped, a grin worming its way onto is face. The tiny blue mouse slapped Lance’s knee and continued to squeak in mousy laughter.

Keith fumed. “Damn it, what is _wrong_ with you?” he cried. “Did you always have screws loose up in that non-existent brain of yours?”

“Well, I’d give you an honest answer, but since I have no frelling idea what you just said, I’m afraid I have to decline,” Lance drawled, flashing Keith his best grin. “But thanks for the show. You pilot the Red Lion, right? Does your Lion know you like to mimic her metallic fur?” he taunted, enjoying the amused purr from the Blue Lion in his head, egging him on. The tiny blue mouse did that squeak-whistle thing again and Lance couldn’t resist pushing the joke further. “Careful, you could make her jealous. Unless she’s a he. In which case you’ll make hi-”

“Ugh. Shut _up!”_ Keith shouted.

Hunk was covering his mouth with both hands, but it was doing nothing to hold back the audible snorts. So, it appeared Lance had an ally in the teasing field. He looked forward to finding out where that led him.

“Do we need to leave you two to your privacy?” the green paladin snarked, crossing their arms.

And there went his amusement. Lance glared at the green paladin. “Don’t think I forgot you,” he said in a low voice. The mice fell silent at the abrupt change in his tone. “You helped blow me up and then electrocuted me. And that’s _before_ we met face to face.”

The shortest paladin’s eyes widened. “I did?” they said. “When did I do that?”

Lance frowned when he noticed the blue quintessence wreathing his hands didn’t waver. Maybe they really didn’t know. Not that it changed his opinion in the slightest.

Someone cleared their throat and Lance looked at the princess in the middle of the group. Her long white hair fell loose and free down her back and over his shoulders. The soft blue and pink of her dress was a soft contrast to the dark tan of her skin. Close up, she really was pretty. Too bad she was the enemy.

Lance waited for her to speak, but she didn’t right away. She just stood there staring at him, her eyes glittering in the dim light. After a few ticks, she lifted her hands and clasped them in front of her mouth. Uh, was she okay?

“You’re Altean,” she said.

Lance blinked. Quiznak. They knew. His shoulders slumped and he curled in on himself slightly. Well, a least they were Altean too, so not too much was out of the black hole. “So are you,” he said.

The princess nodded but seemed to struggle finding the right words to say. Orange mustache man stepped up next to her and offered Lance a smile that felt a bit too paternal for Lance’s taste.

“I’m sorry,” Mustache said. “It’s just… We never thought we’d ever see another living Altean again.”

Uhhh… Not weird at all.

“Why not?” Lance asked, frowning.

Mustache opened his mouth but hesitated, his mustache namesake twitching. Lance was still not sure if that thing was a real mustache or a furry creature living on the man’s upper lip.

“We thought we were the last ones alive,” the princess said, lowering her hands to just above her chest. There were tears in her eyes. “How are you alive? We checked the star charts. Altea doesn’t exist anymore. We thought the Alteans were dead.”

Lance’s gaze hardened. “Of course Altea’s gone,” he said. “It was destroyed 10,000 deca-phoebs ago. Everyone knows that. Good riddance.”

That was apparently the wrong thing to say. Both Mustache and the princess as well as the other paladins flinched, their eyes wide with shocked hurt. Even the mice were staring at him in horror.

“How can you say that?” Hunk gasped. The pink mouse squeaked in agreement.

“Yeah! Who in their right mind says ‘good riddance’ over a planet that was destroyed with who knows how many people on it?” the green paladin demanded angrily.

“The Galra massacred the Alteans and destroyed their home planet,” Keith snarled. “How is that even remotely a good thing?”

“They deserved it!” Lance snapped, ignoring the way the mice shrank away from him and his fury, ignoring the way that hurt. “The Alteans attacked first. If they didn’t expect the Galra to fight back after what they did, then that’s their own fault.”

“Wait, wait, hold on,” Shiro said, raising his hands.

Lance noticed the gleam of dim light on metal and yanked his quintessence wreathed hand back to his huddled form. Like frell he was going to leave it out in the open when just a casual swipe from the Champion’s Druidic arm would sever it. He wasn’t stupid.

“What are you talking about?” Shiro demanded, his dark gray eyes boring into Lance’s ocean blue. “The Galra attacked the Alteans first. Not the other way around.”

Lance glared. “Is that what _they_ told you?” he hissed, jerking his head towards Mustache and the princess. “Well if it is, then they lied. The Alteans destroyed the Galra homeworld. They blew it to pieces with the majority of the Galra civilization still on it. They didn’t give a warning before they attacked. They just blew it to bits.” He narrowed his eyes viciously. “So give me one good reason why I should take back my words?”

…

“What?”


	12. Vanish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lance vanishes, Team Voltron hunts, and both Lance and the Team learn something. Not necessarily a pleasant something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** If anyone notices any errors, let me know. I'm editing/posting this half asleep which is typical of me. But crap, man, I make and miss stupid mistakes when I'm like this. 
> 
> **Side note:** In case anyone's curious, the time slice words I'm using in this fic are the canon words.
> 
>  ****Deca-phoeb -** time slice year  
>  ****Phoeb -** time slice comparable to a month  
>  ****Quintant -** time slice comparable to a day; 20 vargas, or ~1.167 days (28 hrs)  
>  ****Varga -** time slice comparable to an hour (~1.4 hrs, 60 doboshes, or 84 mins)  
>  ****Dobosh -** time slice comparable to a minute (~60 ticks, or 84 secs, or 1.3 min)  
>  ****Tick -** time slice comparable to 1.399 secs

“What?”

Hunk’s voice sounded much louder in the ensuing silence than he probably intended. But the emotion behind that one simple word was felt by everyone in the room. Even Keith wasn’t immune to the shock.

“That’s not true,” the princess whispered in horror. “That’s not true, Lance.”

“It is!” the Druid insisted vehemently. “Go search your oh-so-amazing and no doubt outdated star charts if you want to. Daubazaal is gone, obliterated by the Alteans along with all of the innocent Galra lives who were still on the planet. Only the Galra in space at the time survived.”

“That’s not _true!”_ Allura repeated, her eyes sparkling with hurt and righteous fury. “My father would _never_ murder innocent people like that.”

“You fa-” The fight vanished from the Druid as quickly as it had flared up, replaced by abject terror. “You _father?”_ he murmured. His ocean blue eyes were so wide Keith could see white complete surrounding the irises. The blood drained from Lance’s tan skin leaving him thin and sickly, and trembling. “Your _father,”_ he spat the word, “is the _Demon_ Alfor?”

Allura flinched, fury igniting in her eyes. “My father,” she said slowly and succinctly, clearly doing her best to bank her wrath, “was _not_ a demon.”

“You’re the Demon’s _daughter?”_ the Druid cried, his voice cracking as it climbed to a higher register.

“My _father,”_ Allura repeated, her turquoise eyes sparking dangerously, “was _not_ a demon!”

Lance didn’t seem too inclined to reply to that. The Druid was curled in a tight ball and pressing himself as close to the back wall as he could in an attempt to escape the princess’s anger. It was almost pathetic.

“Hold on,” Shiro said, stepping between Allura and Lance. He lifted his hands in a pacifying gesture and said, “I know how you feel, princess. I do. But this is something we need to know.” He sighed. “We joined this war to fight the Galra based on what they did to our people without provocation and based on what you and Coran told us. We all know there are always at least two sides to every story.”

“Not to this one,” Allura snapped. “My father-”

“Was a good man, I’m sure,” Shiro said gently, “but Lance and the Galra obviously think otherwise.”

“Because they’re _Galra!”_ she hissed.

“Princess,” Coran said, grabbing the princess’s arms to prevent her from pushing past the black paladin and advancing on the cowering Druid. “It’s been 10,000 deca-phoebs since the Great War. That’s a lot of time for Zarkon’s propaganda to spread and take root. Instead of facing this problem head on, like I know you want to because I do too,” he sighed and shook his head, “I think in this case, delicacy is the best path.”

Allura stopped struggling against her advisor but the furious spark in her eyes hadn’t faded in the slightest. There were even angry tears pooling along her eyelashes when she turned to Coran, shaking and hurt.

“Coran’s right,” Hunk said, surprising Allura. “Trust me. On Earth, we had several toxic regimes rise throughout our history that were based on and heavily influenced by propaganda campaigns that often lasted for decades.”

“Decades?” Allura asked hesitantly, sounding out the unfamiliar word.

“A decade is ten years,” Pidge said helpfully. “Just like a century is one hundred years and a millennium is a thousand years.”

“So your campaigns would last for tens of deca-phoebs?” Coran asked carefully.

Hunk nodded. “Right. Often times these campaigns were so thorough that the new generations had no idea what to think or do when the regime was brought down whether by war or failure from the inside.” He shrugged sadly. “It’s not something we’re proud of. But it’s something we’re familiar with.”

“Hunk’s right,” Shiro said, drawing Allura and Coran’s gazes. “If that’s what happened here, then we need to know what Lance’s people were taught. If we do that, then we know where to start working to disprove the propaganda and free them.”

“It won’t be easy,” Keith said grimly. “Don’t expect them to just accept you at your word and that’s it, they’re on your side. It doesn’t work like that. It never works like that.” He shifted so he stood straight. “They’ll probably fight you and they won’t hold back. If they do fight, you’ll have to fight back.”

Allura covered her mouth with her hands in horrified understanding, but Coran nodded sadly. “But… They’re Altean,” Allura whispered. “They’re my people.”

“That’s just it, Allura,” Pidge said, tucking her hands in her tan cargo shorts. “They aren’t your people. Not anymore. They haven’t been your people for 10,000 years, er, deca-phoebs, I guess.” She shrugged and pushed her glasses back up her nose when they were jostled by the move. The Alteans have been indoctrinated by Zarkon and the Galra Empire all this time. That’s a lot of programming the debug. It’s not going to happen tomorrow, or realistically not a year from now. It may take an entire generation before the Galra’s influence begins to really show signs of fading.”

The tears that Allura had done her best to hold back, finally spilled over onto her cheeks when she closed her eyes. “We finally find proof that we’re not alone in the universe, that the Alteans survived the massacre,” she sobbed the word, “only to find out they’re fighting with the Galra. _For_ the Galra.”

Coran wrapped his arms around the princess’s shoulders and pulled her close. “There, there,” he said. “On the bright side, at least we know we aren’t alone. The rest will come with time, patience, and effort.”

“That’s the spirit,” Hunk said, a smile returning to his face.

Keith allowed himself a small smile when he saw Shiro nod in agreement. This wasn’t exactly what he’d expected from this whole Voltron misadventure, but it definitely kept him busy. When Hunk found the Yellow Lion hidden in that cave back on Earth, he’d been expecting… Well, he wasn’t really sure what he’d been expecting. He certainly never expected the Yellow Lion to be a _flying alien spaceship!_ Seriously though, who decided building a spaceship shaped like a Lion was a good idea?

A rumble was the only warning Keith got before the Red Lion mentally batted him over the head. She thought she was perfect the way she was, thank you very much. Just because Keith couldn’t appreciate her grace and speed and agility and hea-

Okay, okay, geez. She won. Again. Red Lion: 5. Keith: 1. The red paladin sighed and crossed his arms. He wasn’t really annoyed so much as weirdly amused by the whole thing. He rolled his eyes, casually glancing back at the Druid’s bunk bed.

It was empty.

He stiffened. “Guys! He’s gone!” he cried, jumping into a battle stance and scanning the room for the Druid or anywhere the sneaky Druid could hide. There wasn’t anywhere.

“What?” Pidge gasped, spinning to stare at the empty bunk with everyone else. “How’d he get by us?”

“Teleport,” Shiro guessed, turning to the Alteans. “Princess, we’ll look for him on foot. Can you and Coran scan the Castle for any life signs?”

“What if he tries to leave the Castle?” Hunk said.

“I’ll seal the hanger doors to both the pod bays and the Lions’ hangers,” Coran said as he moved swiftly for the door, Allura and the paladins at his heels. “That way even if he manages to get control of a pod of his Lion, he can’t get out.”

“Good idea,” Allura said, catching up to her advisor. “I’ll lock down the airlocks as well, just in case he tries to space jump.”

“Good thinking,” Shiro said, slowing down to give instructions. “Hunk, you’re with me. Keith, go with Pidge. Avoid lethal force. We want to catch him, not kill him.”

“Yes sir,” Keith said. His reply was almost drowned out by Hunk’s “Gotcha” and Pidge’s “Roger.” Damn, this was going to be one hell of a hunt.

Shiro and Hunk ran ahead of Allura and Coran so Keith and Pidge turned around and went to search in the opposite direction.

“Wait a sec,” Pidge said, skidding to a stop by the bunk room they’d just left. “Maybe Allura’s mice are still here.”

“Good thinking, Pidge,” Keith said, following the green paladin back into the room.

Keith flipped the lights back on to full brightness before dropping to his hands and knees. He scanned the floor for any sign of the colorful mice. Nothing. They weren’t even under the overhanging lip at the base of the bunk bed where a blue strip light glowed. Although there were a few dust mites and evidence of this place needing a thorough deep clean. Yuck. Too much information.

“Nothing down here,” he reported, sitting up. “You got anything on the bed?”

After a moment, Pidge replied. “Well, yes and no,” she said, sounding like she was studying something.

Curious, Keith got to his feet and walked over to join her on the bunk bed. “What d’you got?” he asked.

“Well,” Pidge straightened out the folds in the blanket, “there aren’t any mice on the bed, but I think I can safely say I know both how Lance vanished and roughly where he went.”

Keith straightened in surprise, impressed despite himself. “What? How?” he demanded.

“This.” Pidge lifted the blanket revealing the metal grating used to cover the Castle air vents.

Keith shook his head in confusion. “What’s that got to do with-” Pidge moved the pillow that had been leaning against the wall where Lance had huddled only minutes before and his eyes grew round. “Oh, no way,” Keith breathed, looking at the newly revealed, open vent tunnel. “How did he even fit through that?”

Pidge leaned forward and stared at the dimly lit interior vent. “It’s not too small, actually,” she commented. “I’ve gone through the vents before. Back when Sendak tried to take over the Castle, I used the vent system to get around without being caught. Lance may be taller than me, but he’s skinny as a fucking stick. If he wanted to, I bet he could climb through these, no problem.”

“Oh-kay,” Keith drawled. “So, are you going to follow him or are we going to wait for Allura to start tracking him using the Castle’s interior scanners?”

“I’ll go in,” Pidge answered easily. “Stay out here and keep me in the loop in case anything happens.”

Keith nodded. “Can do. I’ll let Shiro and Allura know too. They can keep an eye out for any open vents.”

“Good idea,” Pidge said, rolling up her sleeves and climbing into the tunnel. “See you on the other side.”

Keith waited until Pidge was out of sight down a curve in the tunnel before moving to the doorway and hitting the communicator button. “Hey Shiro, Princess, can any of you hear me?” he called into the speaker.

 _“I can, Keith,”_ Coran replied. _“The Princess is attempting to activate the Castle’s interior scanners. Unfortunately, it’s one of the many systems that still need repairs after so long without maintenance so it’s not running as smoothly as we’d hoped. Would you like me to broadcast your message ship-wide?”_

“Yeah, and you might want to hurry up the repairs,” the red paladin said, glancing back at the gaping vent. “We think we figured out how Lance escaped.”

 _“Teleport, we know,”_ Coran said.

“Actually no,” Keith said. “I think he _wanted_ us to think he teleported.”

 _“That makes no sense,”_ the princess muttered. _“Why would he do that? How else could he possibly have gotten out of that room without any of us noticing?”_

“He went through the vents,” Keith said simply. “Pidge just climbed in to find him the old fashioned way, if she can.”

 _“Through the- Shiro, are you getting this?”_ Allura said.

 _“I am, yeah,”_ the black paladin said, sounding both impressed and mildly annoyed. _“Keith, stay there and keep an eye on things. We’ll keep looking around out here in case he decides to get out through another vent.”_

 _“Why would he go through the vents?”_ Hunk said. _“I mean, woah, clever. But why the vents?”_

 _“Actually, I think he’s done this before,”_ Coran said suddenly, sounding thoughtful.

 _“What do you mean?”_ Shiro demanded.

 _“Well,”_ Coran said, _“I didn’t think about it at the time because we were in a bit of a rush, but I did notice one of the vent covers on the bridge walls near the ceiling had fallen off.”_

“Why didn’t you say something?” Keith said in exasperation.

 _“Like I said, it wasn’t important at the time,”_ the Altean advisor said, sounding a bit offended and apologetic. _“Besides, that wasn’t the first time I’ve seen something break in the Castle over the last few quintants, and I doubt it’ll be the last.”_

“That doesn’t matter,” Keith snapped. “If the Druid came through that vent, that means he’s been on the bridge.”

_“Well, yes, I suppose but- Oh dear.”_

“Princess,” the red paladin said suddenly, “check to see if there were any outgoing transmissions made in the last few days, er, quincy-thingies.”

 _“Quintants,”_ Allura corrected, sounding distracted. _“And I’m checking now.”_

It was silent for a few seconds while the princess went through the Castleship’s computer logs for any possible outgoing transmissions. Keith really hoped he was wrong, but it made sense. If Keith had suddenly found himself on a strange ship with people he didn’t trust, he’d use the first opportunity he had to send an S.O.S. out to his team for help. If Lance was even remotely as smart as he claimed to be, then-

 _“Your suspicions were spot on, Keith,”_ Allura said, sounding grim. Damn. _“There was an outgoing transmission made three quintants ago.”_

 _“But that was the day before…”_ Hunk trailed away in realization.

“Before we helped save the Balmera,” Keith said, aiming a glare at the gaping vent. “I’m guessing the transmission was sent to a Galra ship.”

 _“It was,”_ the princess confirmed. _“Although, I’m not sure which one. I doubt it’s in the same position as it was then, but we’ll save the contact codes just in case.”_

 _“Do you know what the message said?”_ Shiro asked.

 _“No,”_ Allura replied. _“It was both a visual and text based transmission. I don’t know what was communicated visually, but I may be able to find the text message. Hold on.”_

 _“Don’t worry about it. I’ve already found it,”_ Coran said.

“What’s it say?” Keith said, his forehead creasing in frustration.

 _“It’s actually very short and to the point,”_ the advisor said, sounding mildly surprised. _“‘Aboard Castle of Lions. All Lions accounted for. Only three active. Headed to a Balmera. Sendak dead. Alone. Injured. Hiding.’ Ah, and here’s the interesting part. The last line is ‘Take me home.’”_

“Take me home?” Keith repeated softly.

 _“That sounds like more of a cry for help than a spy report,”_  Hunk said.

“He told the Galra we were going to the Balmera,” Keith argued.

 _“Well, in his defense, I think those traders who tried to steal the Green Lion told the Galra that too,”_ Hunk said wryly. _“I’ll never underestimate Pidge’s technophilia ever again. Ever.”_

 _“Besides,”_ Shiro spoke up, _“most of that information is obsolete now. We do have all the Lions, but they’re all active.”_

“As long as the Blue Lion tolerates Lance,” Keith mumbled.

He still couldn’t figure out what the Blue Lion saw in the Druid. Crazy, robot cats. And yes, Red did count. Red was the definition of crazy, robot cat. At this point, Keith wouldn’t have been surprised if Red decided to chase and play with a giant ball of yarn if Keith threw it near her.

He heard the Red Lion perk up in his mind and groaned. No giving giant, crazy, robot cats ideas, he chided himself. They took those ideas and made them dangerously realistic. Like the Yellow Lion interpreting his, Shiro’s, Pidge’s, and its own pilot Hunk’s wish to go home as flying through a wormhole to who-knows-where space with no feasible way to get back.

Keith may be attached to Red, but he would definitely be the first to say the Voltron Lions were insane. A feline purr that sounded suspiciously like laughter warmed his mind, filling his body with heat and Keith rolled his eyes.

 _“And even if the Galra didn’t know we were going to the Balmera,”_ Shiro continued, his voice breaking through Keith’s thoughts, _“we would have been fighting them anyway. It’s the part about Sendak that’s interesting.”_

“You think he got into the Castle when Sendak did,” Keith said, reaching the same conclusion as the black paladin and not liking it one bit. “What if he tries to get to Sendak’s prison pod?”

 _“I’m working on blocking access to those vents from here,”_ Allura said. _“But if he’s already passed them, then they won’t do much good.”_

 _“We’ll go down there and check in person,”_ Shiro said.

 _“Um,”_ Hunk said suddenly, _“I don’t mean to play Devil’s advocate here, but uh, what about the whole alone-hurt-take-me-home part of the message?”_

 _“I’m afraid I don’t know,”_ Coran said. _“He may have been injured when we took the Castle back from Sendak.”_

“He did say Pidge blew him up and electrocuted him,” Keith offered. “Maybe that happened then.”

 _“That makes sense,”_ Shiro said. _“I do remember Sendak having a Druid in his entourage, but when I never saw it again, I figured Pidge had gotten rid of it like she did Sendak’s subcommander.”_

 _“I guess that’s one more thing we need to ask him once we catch him,”_ Allura said.

“We’ll have to hold him, this time,” Keith said. “Allura, do you know how to stop someone from using quintessence?”

It took a second for Allura to reply. _“I’ll look into it.”_

Which meant yes, but it wouldn’t be pleasant. At this point, Keith was open to ideas. He leaned back against the wall, annoyed he couldn’t be involved in the actual hunt with the others. Damn… What a hunt. He sighed.

* * *

Quiznak, these people were frelling crazy! That vent barrier very nearly cut his legs off at the ankles. That would not have been the most pleasant experience. At least the green paladin couldn’t follow him now. He should’ve know the sneaky frakker could fit in the vents like him. He did _not_ know that the green paladin had just about as a good of a grasp of the Castleship’s vent layout as he did. That little run-around had not been fun.

At least he was safe for the time being. He looked around, ignoring the mice chittering by his ears. He hadn’t ever wandered into this part of the vent system before. He hadn’t wanted to. It was much darker and colder here, and not necessarily in the good way. He was only here now because the green paladin kept chasing him.

Oh well. Since he was here, might as well check it out. Maybe there was a vent opening he could slip out of. He was still too weak to try teleporting. Even if he had the energy, he could tell his mind wasn’t ready for it yet. He was too tired still. Teleporting while tired or dizzy was never a good idea. Sometimes, not everything arrived at the right place. Sometimes nothing appeared. Ever. Best not to leave that to chance. Lance was happy being alive, thank you very much.

Well, hello there vent opening. He scooted down the narrow tunnel. The vents were definitely narrower down here than the rest of the ship too. It was almost too narrow. If Lance couldn’t get out through that vent, then… He didn’t want to think about it.

When he was close enough to the grated opening, he peered through the slats. Better to be safe than sorry. Wouldn’t want to pop out into an ambush of Voltron paladins if he could avoid it. It was a dark hallway. The only light sources were from a row of pods along either wall, all dim except for one. But although it was the pod’s brightness that attracted Lance’s attention, it was the pod’s contents that held it.

Commander Sendak. He was alive?!


	13. Truce

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Pidge chases a Magicarp, has a deep, disturbing talk with said Magicarp, and refuses to look a gift Druid in the mouth. Bad breath, you understand.

This guy… was a sneaky skinny stick. Some of these vents were almost too narrow for her to slide through. How the Druid managed it was beyond her. He must be a lot skinnier than she first thought.

The way those brown robes he’d worn when they first met in the Blue Lion’s hanger hung off him, it was hard to make out any real form to his body. The brown shirt and pants were a bit tighter fitting, but even they had been hanging off him in places. It was official. Lance was a sneaky skinny stick and she wanted pointers.

He was also a slippery sneaky skinny stick. Every time Pidge had been _this close_ to nabbing him, he’d slipped away. Sometimes wriggling around like some sort of demented snake. He even flopped once. She’d caught sight of him rounding a bend in the vent tunnel ahead and scrambled up behind him before he could make a break for it. She gotten her fingers around his ankle when he just flopped, literally flopped like a fucking Magicarp, kicking her in the face and escaping.

It had been a game of chase ever since. Up the vertical nexus tunnels where the horizontal vents came together, down the slanted ones leading towards the Lions’ hangers, and through a maze of side vents.

She’d been somewhat familiar with the vent systems since she’d relied on them to get around the Castleship and sabotage the engines without getting caught by Sendak. But it seemed Lance knew them even better than she did. That was a bit unnerving. It implied Lance had spent much more time in the vents than she had.

She’d hidden in them for a good six hours or more. That was a long time by any standard. But if Lance had been in here longer, then that meant he’d had to sneak aboard the Castleship without anyone noticing and _then_ slip into the vents. How could he do that and no one notice? _When_ did he do that?

They hadn’t stopped anywhere between Arus and the Balmera, except for that little moon where they’d met those traitors Nyma and Rolo. They left there in a hurry after they’d almost stolen her Green Lion. She was still embarrassed about that. Their cyber-unit Beezer was adorable and so freaking amazing! How could she _not_ love it to bits?

Groaning at the humiliating memory, Pidge ambled on down this dimly lit tunnel. Lance had lost her in the past vent nexus. She was almost certain he’d taken this vent, but she wasn’t one hundred percent sure. She was going by gut instinct which hadn’t led her wrong yet. Minus the Beezer incident.

A few casually worded threats and no one on Team Voltron mentioned that incident anymore. No one.

There was a dull thud of metal hitting metal ahead and Pidge looked up with a surprised frown. What the heck was that? Lance?

Scrambling through the narrowing vent as fast as she could, she rounded a corner and came face to face with a metal door of some kind. It was clearly not a part of the vent proper. It looked suspiciously like one of those blast door things that shut tight in the event of a fire or toxic gas release or something. But if that’s really what it was, Pidge sincerely hoped it wasn’t triggered by one of the rather deadly and not so pleasant causes she could think of.

Besides, if it was a toxic gas leak or whatever, then there would probably be a hissing sound of escaping gas, right? She held her breath and listened. Well, there was no hissing sound, but she could hear shuffling on the other side of the door. She’d bet Hunk’s Voltron Geiger counter device that the shuffling was Lance.

Damn it. He was _right there_ and she couldn’t reach him because of a stupid door. And naturally, she hadn’t thought to grab her bayard before climbing down in here. Not that she was exactly sure where in the Castle ‘here’ was, but it was the principle of the thing.

Well, this was frustrating. She frowned and reached out to run her hands along the metal. She could feel creases and tiny cracks where the metal had been worn down over the years. Interesting and possibly useful. Shifting, she spread her hands flat on the metal door and tested its integrity. It bent when she pressed hard.

Huh. If the door was worn enough to bend under the force of just her hands, then there was chance she could break it down and get through.

“Commander Sendak?!”

Oh shit. Yep. That was definitely Lance the Druid and now was definitely the time for her to break this damn door down. Taking a deep breath, she pushed against the metal with all her might. She had to dig her shoes into the vent floor to help give her extra leverage.

The door gave way with an unholy shriek that was murder to her ears. Yay, but strange. Metal wasn’t supposed to work that way as far as she knew. But hey, the door was down and she now had a very good view of long brown pant legs leading up to a butt and a pair of gleaming blue eyes.

Woah. Keith was right about the eye shine thing. Lance really could see in the dark.

Shit! He could kick too. Flailing out with her hands, she was able to catch one of Lance’s legs, haul herself forward, and lay her weight on top of it. With one foot out of the way, she made quick work of the other one, forcing it next to its partner under her stomach and chest. Lance still tried to kick them free, but it wasn’t doing much other than being annoying. This vent tunnel was too narrow for either of them to move freely.

But just in case, she looped both of her arms around Lance’s knees and held on. The Druid gave up flopping and tried wriggling. This wasn’t too bad, to be honest. She was getting a free ride and Lance couldn’t do anything about it.

“You know,” she said after a minute, “if you just stop fighting me, we can get this over with.”

Lance didn’t respond verbally, but he did finally stop struggling. In fact, Lance fell limp and didn’t so much as twitch. That was suspiciously easy. An obnoxious gurgle resounded through the vent and Pidge’s brown eyes widened in disbelief.

“Was that your stomach?” she gasped, her lips twitching up even as she tried to bite back a snicker.

Lance groaned and it sounded positively pathetic. “Leave me alone,” he mumbled.

His words were slurred by embarrassment and muffled by the sleeves he’d buried his face in. Pidge lifted her head and tried to get a good look at the Druid, but all she got was a vague outline of his body courtesy of the light from the vent opening in front of Lance’s face.

The words she’d heard the Druid cry out through the demolished door came back to her and she grimaced. That room must be the prison pod level. How did they get so far down here without her realizing it? The vents must have been angled downward at such a gentle slope that she hadn’t noticed.

There was movement by Lance’s shoulders and three pairs of eyes stared back at her. Allura’s mice.

“Oh, hi there,” she called to the mice, flashing them a bright smile. “Think you could go let Allura know I caught Lance?”

One of the mice, she thought it was the pink one, but it was hard to tell in the dim light, squeaked and shook its head. Lance said something too low and muffled for her to understand, but the pink mouse seemed to understand. It crouched down on all fours and chattered frantically but Lance just shook his head, never looking up from his arms. The mouse’s squeaks softened and it patted Lance’s pointed ear before slipping through the slats of the vent opening and disappearing.

Pidge frowned curiously at the exchange. She knew the princess’s mice were never as friendly with strangers as they were with Lance. They trusted him. That was something she hadn’t expected. Also, Lance wasn’t fighting her anymore at all. He wasn’t even moving.

Actually, no, he was moving slightly. His shoulders were shaking and… Wait. She could hear the faintest sound of muffled…sobs? Was Lance crying?

“Hey,” she said cautiously. “Are you alright man?”

Lance let out a huff that sounded suspiciously like laughter. “What do you think, green paladin?” he said. He probably meant it to sound angry or snappish, but it only sounded tired and resigned.

What did she think?

“Are you crying?” she asked hesitantly.

“No!”

That would be an emphatic yes. She wasn’t sure how to handle this.

“Why are you crying?” she asked in confusion. “We’re not going to hurt you. We just want to talk to you.”

Lance scoffed and that did sound a bit more derisive and less sad. “Right,” he said, turning his head so he faced the vent wall. “Just like you only meant to escape us when we tried to catch the Yellow Lion at that uncharted planet. Or like you only meant to stop us from attacking this frell-foresaken ship when you blew up Commander Sendak’s battlecruiser. Or how you only meant to stop the Galra from attacking the Balmera when you destroyed that other battlecruiser.”

“We _were_ just trying to protect the Balmera,” Pidge said, vehemently. “And Sendak had it coming. He attacked us first.”

“He was _commanded_ to engage,” Lance snapped.

“Well so were we,” Pidge shouted right back. “Sendak’s ion canon was going to destroy the Castle’s particle barrier. We had to do something.”

“And I’m supposed to believe blowing up an entire battlecruiser was that something?” Lance hissed.

“Yes!”

Lance jerked his feet, startling her. It wasn’t enough to get free, but it did knock the breathe out of Pidge when she didn’t brace fast enough.

“You’re sick,” Lance said.

“Says the guy who works for the Galra,” Pidge said angrily.

“At least the Galra are honorable,” Lance shouted back, shooting a glare back at her over his shoulder. She could barely make out what looked suspiciously like tear trails down the one cheek she could see. “They give the enemy a chance to surrender before attacking and non-combatants are left alone.”

“Oh right, in what universe?” Pidge said, rolling her eyes.

 _“This one?”_ Lance said, slapping the vent with one hand. “What other universe is there? Don’t answer that,” he said quickly. “I really don’t want to debate philosophy right now.”

“Oh yeah?” Pidge said, feeling more than a little vindictive right now. “Then what do you want to do?”

Lance moaned and buried his head back in his arms. “I want to eat,” he drawled. “I’m so frelling hungry. My stomach won’t stop hurting. I’m thirsty. I’m tired. I’m drained. And I just want to go _home!_ There,” he snapped, raising his head to emphasize his point. “Happy?”

“Uhh… No?” Pidge hedged. That hadn’t been what she’d been expecting. “Why are you so hungry? When was the last time you ate?”

Lance dropped his head back into his arms. “When did we fight the Balmera?” he mumbled.

“Two days ago,” Pidge answered promptly. She stopped, thought over her words, and her eyes grew wide. “You haven’t eaten in two days?”

“Technically,” Lance said, tilting his head just enough for his words to come out more clearly, “I haven’t eaten a proper meal in seven quintants. But I've snuck a bowl of that green goop stuff you guys eat every now and then when you were all sleeping. I didn’t risk coming out of the vents more often than that.”

Pidge’s mouth hung open in horrified shock. “You-! When was the last time you drank something?”

Lance sighed, his shoulders rising and falling wearily. That was all the answer Pidge needed.

“Yeah, right, okay, we’re going to get you some food,” she said. “Like now.”

Lance scoffed. “Like you care.”

Pidge bristled. “I _do_ care. We don’t torture people.” Unlike the Galra, she left unsaid. Although, those unspoken words still rang so loudly in the cramped space that she might as well have said them out loud. “Look, let’s get out of these vents and back with the others.”

Lance shook his head. “No,” he said firmly. “No way in frell. I am not going anywhere near that witch.”

Pidge blinked. “Witch? You mean Allura?”

“Who else would I be talking about?” Lance said waspishly.

“I don’t know, Zarkon?” Pidge offered sarcastically. She was mildly surprised when Lance actually seemed to seriously consider her words.

“Point,” he admitted, and wasn’t _that_ a surprise.

“I thought you were loyal to Zarkon,” Pidge said carefully.

“Fear and loyally are two completely different things,” Lance said, holding up a finger. “Zarkon’s frakking terrifying. I’m not stupid enough to go against him.”

“But,” Pidge said, trying to make sense of the Druid’s words, “you fight with the Galra. Doesn’t that mean you serve Zarkon?”

Lance shrugged. “Technically, yes. Officially, yes. But honestly, I’d rather be quiznaked then serve Zarkon directly.” He shuddered. “I don’t have a death wish.”

This was… This made no sense. Every Galra Pidge had come across was a fanatic, loyal to both the Galra Empire and its emperor, Zarkon. Maybe Lance wasn’t a radical because he wasn’t a Galra?

“Oh-kay,” she said, drawing out the word. “But if you don’t want to serve Zarkon, why do you? And why are you still so hung up about us destroying those battlecruisers? We were fighting. This is a war. They attack, we fight back.”

Lance was already shaking his head. “It’s never as simple as that,” he said viciously. “Do you have any idea how many lives you and your team killed on those battlecruisers?”

Pidge shrugged. “I don’t know. A couple hundred?” she guessed. “Maybe less? There are a lot of drones on those ships.”

Lance was silent for a long minute, turning his head to stare out the vent opening. “I don’t know about the battlecruiser on the Balmera,” he said quietly. “But there were five hundred forty-seven people aboard Commander Sendak’s battlecruiser. Two hundred seventy-one were non-combatants.”

Pidge swallowed over a suddenly dry throat. “What do you mean by non-combatants?” she asked, almost afraid of the answer.

“People who can’t or don’t fight,” Lance replied. “Children, families, mothers, the elderly, slaves-”

“Slaves!?” Pidge gasped. She paled in dawning horror. Her brother was probably still a Galra slave. What if he’d been on one of those ships? What if he…he… Also, “Children?” she whispered in despair.

“Yes,” Lance said.

“But…” None of this made sense. “Why were there children and slaves on a battlecruiser?” she demanded, trying to make sense of Lance’s words. “I’m assuming they were Galra children, so why weren’t they on the Galra home planet?”

Lance huffed a grim laugh. “Weren’t you listening?” he said. “The Alteans destroyed the Galra home world. They live in space now. They’re entire race lives in space. Battlecruisers are used to fight and shelter the families of the soldiers on board if they decide to come. They’re also used to transport slaves across the galaxy.”

Children. Slaves. Pidge had helped kill…

“That’s why you were so mad,” she murmured. “When you attacked us with the Blue Lion on the Balmera. You were mad because we were cheering and all that time you knew there were children and s-slaves on that ship and we had no idea and…” She felt like throwing up.

“There was that,” Lance said. “But also, I knew some Druids were on that ship as well.” His shoulders drooped. “My people were on that ship.”

“Alteans,” Pidge whispered. She closed her eyes and let her head fall to Lance’s legs. “Holy shit.”

Lance said nothing, but his stomach growled loud enough for both of them. Despite her gloom, Pidge still felt a smile tug at her lips. “Look,” she said, “why don’t we get you out out of here and stuff some food down your belly,” she snickered when Lance’s stomach growled again, louder, “and I’ll break the news to the others.”

Lance hunched over, his head hanging down. If Pidge knew Lance better, she would’ve joked about the Druid losing his head. But now probably wasn’t the best time to joke about death, even fake death.

“Just… don’t…” Lance sighed. “I don’t want to be near the witch or her advisor.”

“Allura’s really not bad,” Pidge said.

“I _don’t_ want to be near her,” Lance said more forcefully.

Pidge sighed. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll do what I can.”

Lance nodded. “I’ll take that.”

He shifted so his arms unfolded and pressed to the vent grate. A faint blue glow with hints of purple sparks illuminated the darkness. A couple ticks later, the vent cover dropped away, landing on the floor of the room beyond with a loud clatter.

“You’ll have to let go of my legs if you want to get out of here,” Lance said, his voice flat and weary.

“Oh, right.” Pidge unwrapped her arms from Lance’s legs and pushed herself up far enough for him to squirm free. “Um, this might be a weird time to ask, but why are you trusting me right now?”

Lance paused halfway out of the vent opening, leaning on something just out of sight. “Because you tried to kill me,” he said. “Twice.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t make any sense,” Pidge said, shaking her head. “Why would you trust someone who tried to kill you?”

Lance pulled himself the rest of the way out of the vent, letting his legs fall free. Pidge crawled up to the opening and stuck her head out. There was a prison pod below and to the left of the vent. Lance must have used that to help him get out without falling.

Hands filled her vision and she followed the arms back to Lance who was standing on the floor below her. His arms were extended as if to catch her and help her down. How… nice. She wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Or a gift Druid, if you will.

She grabbed one of Lance’s hands with her own and let him help keep her balance as she worked herself out of the vent. Her other hand grabbed the prison pod next to her. When she was almost entirely out, Lance placed the hand he’d been holding on his shoulder and stepped closer.

“Just drop,” he said. “I’ll catch you.”

She eyed him and his thin sticky form in disbelief, earning her a wry eye roll. Still, it was better than nothing. She pushed herself the rest of the way out and was promptly caught by hands on her hips. Although she did hear a grunt of pain when her legs swung down to kick Lance in the thins as he lowered her down to the floor.

“Sorry,” she muttered, dusting herself off. She sneezed and Lance winced. “You still didn’t answer my question though.”

Lance heaved a sigh. “I trust you because you tried to kill me.”

“Yeah, but how is that supposed to make sense?” Pidge pressed.

Blue eyes stared at her before sliding away. “You only tried to kill me on the battlefield,” he mumbled.

Oh.

“Truce?” she said, holding out an open hand.

Lance eyed it suspiciously before taking it. “Truce.”

“Now,” Pidge said, shaking Lance’s hand, “let’s go get you some fo-”

“Pidge!” Shiro’s voice shouted from down the hall by the lift. “Get away from him!”

Damn it.


	14. Food

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Pidge takes charge and Lance explains, and gives in.

 Fuck. This. Shit.

“Shirogane Takashi, you’d better shut the fuck up and back the fuck off or I swear you will find food goo in places you didn’t even know existed.”

It was actually impressive how fast the black paladin skidded to a halt in the middle of the prison pod hallway, dark gray eyes wide and glowy purple hand no longer glowy and threatening. Hunk, who’d been running close behind Shiro, couldn’t stop as quickly and ended up stumbling into Shiro’s shoulder. Both paladins looked sufficiently confused.

“Now,” Pidge said, deliberately grabbing Lance’s bony hand -damn, it felt like holding a skeleton hand- when the Druid tried to sneak away, “you’re both going to take a step back and clear the path.”

“I can’t do that, Pidge,” Shiro said seriously, shifting his stance slightly so he blocked the hallway. He glanced at the active prison pod standing directly next to Pidge and the Druid and his eyes darkened. “I can’t let him set Sendak free.”

Lance stiffened. “Wha-” he started, cutting off abruptly with a pained grunt when the green paladin tightened her hold on his hand.

“Shiro,” Pidge said in a deceptively calm voice, “I’m only going to say this one more time so listen close.” She took a deep breath. “Shut up.”

“Pidge, I-”

“Hunk,” Pidge said, raising her voice so she could be heard over the black paladin’s, “I need you to make the best damn food you ever made and I need you to do it now.”

Hunk blinked. “Uh… Like right now?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Pidge said. “Like _right now_ right now.”

“Um.” Hunk glanced between Shiro and Pidge, unsure of what to do. That’s okay. Pidge knew how to push the yellow paladin’s buttons like she knew her own, hand built computer.

“Hunk?” she said. She pointed at Lance, tightening her hold on his too skinny stick wrist when he flinched, and said, “He hasn’t eaten anything in five days.”

Hunk’s jaw dropped open, his eyes bugged out of his head, and he turned to Lance in abject horror. Even Shiro looked taken aback by the news, but Shiro didn’t matter right now. It was Hunk Pidge was betting on. Once Hunk got his claws on a Mission of Mercy, ain’t nothing in the universe could stop him from steamrolling over any and all barriers.

And that was exactly what happened here. Pidge grinned victoriously. She looked up at Lance who was curling in on himself and gave him a thumbs up. Lance eyed her suspiciously, twitching when one of the three mice on his shoulder squeaked and pointed at something near his feet. He looked down and froze. Before Pidge could ask what was wrong, she saw the tiny blue mouse climbing up the Druid’s shirt and hauling itself onto Lance’s shoulder with its companions.

It was adorable and reinforced the fact that Pidge was definitely doing the right thing here. She could tell from the hesitancy in the Druid’s blue eyes that he was definitely not okay with this, but Pidge was great with this. Of course, she knew once Lance had some food in his stomach, the Druid would be okay with this too. ‘Cause really, who wasn’t okay with a full stomach?

Hunk rolled up his sleeves and walked straight up to Lance, not slowing when the mice on Lance’s shoulders shrank close to the Druid’s collar. “You,” he said, pointing to Lance’s chest. “Me. Kitchen. Now.”

Lance gulped and if Pidge hadn’t known Hunk couldn’t hurt a fly when he was in this mode, she would’ve been concerned. As it was, she grinned and gave Hunk Lance’s captive wrist.

“I pass Lance to your masterful care,” she said with mock dignity.

Hunk took Lance’s hand, turned on his heel, and practically dragged the terrified Druid behind him.

“Wait,” Shiro said, holding up his hands and looking very concerned and confused. “What is going on here? Pidge?”

“I’ll explain as we go,” she said, tucking her hands in her cargo shorts and strolling after Hunk and Lance. She waited until the black paladin matched her pace before speaking again. “He’s not going to do anything Shiro,” she said. “To be honest, I don’t think he could do much of anything right now. He couldn’t get away from me when he tried.”

Lance definitely heard that and shot her a dirty look over her shoulder. She replied with a remorseless grin, teeth flashing. The fat green mouse covered its tiny mouth and the pink mouse chittered cheerily. Flushing, Lance’s shoulders drooped and he followed Hunk with all the air of a prisoner walking to the gallows.

Then his stomach growled loudly and the image was shattered. The mice made cooing noises and the pink mouse patted Lance’s cheek like a mother. Hunk may have picked up his pace a bit, too, because Pidge was definitely moving faster than before. Curse her short legs.

“Princess,” Shiro said suddenly, startling Pidge from her thoughts. “Can you hear me?”

 _“I can, Shiro,”_ Allura’s voice rang through the hallway and Pidge was certain she didn’t imagine Lance’s flinch. _“Have you found him? The mice told me he was with Pidge.”_

“That’s an affirmative,” the black paladin said. “We're on our way to the kitchen.”

 _“The kitchen?”_ the princess parroted in obvious confusion. _“Why there?”_

“Because Hunk is on a Mission of Mercy,” Pidge said. “Don’t try to stop him, princess. You’ll regret it if you do. Trust me on this one.”

Hunk had the grace to blush as they stepped into the lift and gave Pidge a slightly uncomfortable look. “I’m not that bad,” he mumbled.

“You are absolutely that bad,” Pidge argued. “But that’s just one of the reasons why I value your friendship.”

That brightened Hunk’s mood considerably and Pidge silently congratulated herself.

 _“I know I’m missing something,”_ Keith grumbled.

“Dude, you’re always missing something,” Pidge said with an easy shrug.

 _“What’s that supposed to mean?”_ Keith snapped.

“It means you missed me and you know it,” the Druid said suddenly, smirking.

It took just about all of Pidge’s self-control to not laugh. She could practically see Keith’s face in her mind going bright red in pent up fury. Three. Tw-

 _“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”_ Keith shouted.

Oh. Earlier than usual. Sweet.

 _“We’re coming to the kitchen to meet you,”_ Allura said.

Pidge grimaced when she noticed the way Lance’s face immediately paled. “Actually, you aren’t allowed to this party, Allura,” she said quickly. “I promised Lance I'd make you stay away for a while.”

 _“What?”_ the princess gasped in offense. _“This is **my** ship. I can go wherever I want.”_

“No,” Pidge said, crossing her arms. “Just this once, you can’t.”

“Pidge, I think the princess shou-”

“Shiro? You’re a great Space Dad-”

“Space Dad?” Lance sputtered, between snorts of restrained laughter.

“-but I _will_ fight you on this,” Pidge continued, drawing confidence from Lance’s amusement. If her plan had even a remote chance of success, she would need Lance to feel comfortable. “We’ll tell you everything you want to know later, Allura. But if Lance is going to talk,” the Druid’s entire posture wilted, “you need to stay away.”

 _“Very well,”_ the princess said after a few moments of silence. _“But we will have words later.”_

“I’ll be sure to bring my Scrabble board with me,” Pidge chirped and this time Hunk gave her a high five.

_“…whatever that means…”_

Pidge shifted so she stayed on Lance’s right the entire walk from the lift to the mess hall. With Hunk on Lance’s left, there was no way for the Druid to get away or for anyone to sneak up on him. Surprisingly, instead of intimidating him, the quasi-protection seemed to ease Lance’s nerves. Pidge had Lance’s back.

* * *

Lance was trying very hard not to stuff his face. The food wasn’t tasteless exactly, but it wasn’t bland either. Honestly, he really didn’t care at this point. Anything edible would do and dear ‘Verse this was everything he’d ever dreamed of. Figuratively speaking, of course. There were other things he dreamed of that weren’t polite enough to bring up in this company. They didn’t have that level of trust yet.

The yellow paladin, Hunk, hadn’t stayed in the kitchen long after depositing Lance in the head seat of the large table in the Castleship’s mess hall. But when he’d emerged with a bowl of something that wasn’t green goop, Lance had been salivating without shame. Unfortunately, Hunk wouldn’t allow Lance to eat too fast.

“You haven’t had anything real to eat in too long,” Hunk said, putting a hand up between Lance’s mouth and the spoonful of food. “If you eat too much too soon, your body could reject it and you’ll throw everything back up.”

That would ruin the whole point of eating in the first place so Lance was trying to take his time. It was torture, but at least the torture came with food. And his furry companions were still with him too.

The mice, with the exception of the suspicious blue mouse with red eyes, were all leaning on Lance’s bowl watching him eat. It was awkward, but endearing. Whenever he paused too long between bites for their like, they would squeak and he’d take another bite to satisfy them. The tiny blue mouse, who Lance had officially decided was his favorite, would not so subtly sneak small handfuls for itself. It was too cute to make Lance mad, even though the loss of even that little bit of food hurt a bit.

He paused to breathe and look around the mess hall. The Champion was sitting a couple chairs down the table on the other side of Pidge who had planted herself in the seat directly next to Lance. Hunk had taken the seat to Lance’s other side and was making sure Lance ate every bite at the correct speed.

The only person missing was-

“What the hell!”

Speak of the demon and he shall appear.

Lance lifted his eyes long enough to see Keith stomping towards them before returning his focus to his food. His bowl was almost empty and that was seriously hurting his feelings.

“Took you long enough, Keith,” Pidge called.

“Fuck you.”

“Not interested, asshole.”

Fuck? Asshole? Were those curse words? Lance liked.

He swallowed his last bite and set his spoon down sadly. The pink mouse patted his hand and the big green mouse wormed itself under Lance’s hand so Lance’s fingers didn’t have a choice other than scratch behind its ear. Clever little thing.

“Is _anyone_ going to tell me what’s going on?” Keith demanded.

“Pidge?” Shiro said, leaning on the table and looking at the green paladin expectantly. He clasped his hands, weaving his fingers together as if preparing for a detailed debrief.

Lance winced sympathetically. He hated debriefs. They tended to be tedious and uncomfortable. And those were just the written ones. Don’t even get him started on the verbal debriefs. He silently wished Pidge luck and oh damn she was looking at him why was she looking at him wait he was supposed to do this what no nonononononono-

“Lance?” Hunk said, resting a hand on the Druid’s shoulder. His eyes saddened when Lance flinched at the touch, but politely removed his hand. “It’s okay,” Hunk tried again. “We’ll hear you out, this time.”

“Hey,” Pidge said, pulling wide blue eyes to her. “Just tell them what you told me, okay?”

Only tried to kill him on the battlefield. There was honor there. Of a sort.

Taking a deep breath, Lance rested his arms on the table and leaned over. He was still tired and hungry. He wrapped his hands around the cup of now lukewarm water and stared at it. The mice snuggled up against his hands, bringing a smile to his face. They may be the princess’s friends, but it seemed they’d decided to be his too.

“Alright,” he said with a sigh. “What do you want to know?”

“Were you the Druid who came in with Sendak?” Keith said, standing behind the Champion with his arms crossed.

Lance nodded. “I was, yes. He and everyone aboard that battlecruiser were under my protection.” He felt tears prick his eyes. “I failed them.”

“They were Galra,” Keith said, clenching his fists.

“That doesn’t make them evil,” Lance said, glaring at the red paladin.

Keith snarled. “They kidnapped Shiro and Pidge’s family, attacked us, and literally took over the entire galaxy.”

“They did what?” Lance gasped, turning to Pidge in shock. “They did what?” he whispered.

Pidge shifted in her seat. “That's how the Galra made first contact with Earth,” she said. “They attacked a three man science expedition to Kerberos, a moon of one of the planets in our solar system. They didn’t contact us any other way before or after. They just…” she lowered her eyes as she remembered his father and brother, “attacked and that was it.”

“Oh,” Lance murmured. “I’m sorry. That’s not… That’s not usually how the Galra operate. They’re typically more honorable than that.” He bowed his head. “I see why you reacted the way you did before. They attacked you without provocation with every intent to kill so you reacted in kind. You had no way of knowing… I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t do it,” Pidge said, shaking her head wearily. “I don’t blame you.”

“But I represent the empire that stole from you,” Lance argued. “And you still treated me honorably, even when you could have killed me.”

Pidge’s lips quirked. “Not on a battlefield, remember?”

Despite himself, Lance huffed a laugh. “I did invade the Castle with Commander Sendak,” he said, lifting his head but keeping his gaze on the mice by his hands. “But we only did it because the emperor ordered the commander to retrieve the Lions and the Castle of Lions, if he could get it, and bring them back to Central Command. The fact that we could also avenge those we lost and use your Castleship to get home just made it that much more imperative.”

“You attacked me,” the Champion said and Lance winced. The black paladin didn’t sound mad so much as distrustful and annoyed.

“I did,” Lance said, nodding. “You were attacking my commander who was still officially under my protection. I’ve seen you fight, Champion,” he said, meeting Shiro’s gaze with his own. “I knew you could kill him if he pushed you far enough. He may have had an advantage with his newer alchemic arm, but you were the superior warrior. So I took you out of the equation.”

Shiro nodded and his expression eased. “You could have killed me,” he said. “Why didn’t you?”

Lance pressed is lips together. Some things were better left unsaid. “Let’s just say it’s better for everyone’s health if you stay alive,” Lance muttered.

Shiro’s eyebrows climbed to his hairline in surprise but it was Hunk who spoke next.

“I don’t mean to be rude here, but, well, aren’t you a bit young to be on the battlefield?” Hunk asked. Lance gave the yellow paladin a look and Hunk flushed. “Oh, right. Ehe. Guess that could be put right back at me.”

“I’m a Druid,” Lance said. “I’m of age and a combatant. It would be stupid of me _not_ to fight.”

“What do you mean by combatant?” Keith asked with a frown.

“A combatant is anyone who can and will fight,” Lance replied readily. “Soldiers, drones, Druids,” he shrugged. “It could be anyone really. A non-combatant is anyone who can’t or won’t fight like children or, sometimes, slaves. However, if a non-combatant picks up a weapon and charges, they become a combatant and will be dealt with as such.”

“So don’t fight and you’re left alone,” Hunk said, “and if you fight, you die.”

“Almost always, yes,” Lance said, nodding.

“In a twisted sort of way, that kind of makes sense,” Hunk said thoughtfully.

“But we didn’t have any weapons with us on Kerberos,” Shiro said. “Why attack us?”

Lance shook his head. “I don’t know. I wasn’t there.”

“Do you have any ideas?” Keith pressed.

“Not really, no,” Lance said. “What you say happened is unusual for the Galra. Well,” he amended after a moment, “most Galra anyway.”

“There’s more,” Pidge said, drawing the group’s attention. “Those battlecruisers we destroyed? They had non-combatants on them. A lot of them. Including children and slaves.”

Lance watched in rapt interest as everyone at the table paled, even the Champion looked slightly sick. Well, well. The heartless Champion had a heart after all.

“Why would there be _children_ on a battleship?” Keith said in disbelief.

“Because it _is_ a battlecruiser,” Lance said. Duh. “They're the single most defensible ship the Galra Empire has aside from Central Command. It’s designed to house the families and slaves of the soldiers on board if they want to come along.”

“Why not just stay on their home planet?” Keith said. “Or _any_ planet, for that matter. Don’t the Galra care about their families?”

Lance glared. “Of course, they do!” he hissed. “Why else would they take their families along? And in case you weren’t listening, I remember very clearly saying the Alteans destroyed the Galra home world over 10,000 deca-phoebs ago.”

“What, and they couldn’t find another home planet to settle?” Keith shot back.

“By the time they finally found one suitable for supporting their race? No.” Lance groaned. “Look, I’m not a historian and I’m not Galra. You want a full history of the Galra Empire, talk to Commander Sendak. I’m a part of the Empire but I’m not one of them.”

“Then, if the Galra don’t live on a planet, where do they live?” Hunk wondered aloud.

“In space.”

“Their entire race?” Hunk gasped.

Lance shrugged. “Most of them,” he said with a nod. “Some of them settled on planets, but not many. Most of the planetside Galra are migratory. They never stay for long. Their home is space.”

“What about the Druids?” Shiro asked.

“What about them?” Lance said, clenching his hands under the mice’s fur.

“Do you live on a planet?”

Not. Answering. That.

His glare must have gotten through because Shiro didn’t press. Instead, the Champion asked, “Are all Druids Altean?”

Startled, Lance blinked. “Um, I believe so. Well, for the most part.” He eyed the black paladin suspiciously. “Why?”

“And you all serve Zarkon.” The way Shiro said it was more like a statement than a question and Lance wasn’t sure how he felt about that assumption.

“Lance isn’t loyal to Zarkon,” Pidge said, startling the paladins.

“What?” Shiro gasped.

“Really?” Hunk said.

Keith scoffed. “Like I’d believe that.”

“I’m not,” Lance insisted. “I serve him, but that doesn’t mean I’m loyal to him.” He aimed a glare at Keith. “You’d be surprised how many in the Galra Empire don’t trust Zarkon.” He was saying too much.

“Then why serve him?” Shiro asked.

“Because Zarkon’s powerful and so is his second in command,” Lance said, his gaze hard. “Anything he says, goes without question. He’s lived for 10,000 deca-phoebs. He’s functionally immortal. He’s charismatic and that can make you _want_ to serve him. But it’s not really a choice.”

He brushed the blue fur of the tiny blue mouse’s head to distract himself from his roiling emotions as he continued to speak. “If you refuse to do as he commands,” he said softly, “he’ll take everything you care about and destroy it in front of you. He’ll make you want to die. He’ll _break_ you. Or he’ll have one of the Master Druids under his command do it for him. Either way, you won’t refuse anymore. I don’t have a death wish or a taste for pain, so I decided to skip the tedious middle part and just not refuse,” Lance finished with a shrug.

“But if you don’t serve Zarkon,” Shiro said, “then who do you serve?”

“The Galra Empire,” Lance replied. “We’re not all crazy.”

“You say that like you are a Galra,” Keith said.

Lance arched an eyebrow in thought. “Well, I mean, I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s Galra in me somewhere in my lineage,” he admitted easily. “There aren’t very many pure blooded Alteans any more. Those that are tend to be a bit… em, not so right in the head, if you know what I mean.”

“Inbreeding,” Hunk said, nodding in understanding.

Lance shuddered, and so did Pidge. “That’s pretty much all the pure bloods are good for now,” Lance said. “They’re mostly insane and their genes are all mixed up due to careless inbreeding. If they live long enough, they may be useful to breed, but that’s about it.”

“Ew,” Pidge grumbled. “How can you talk about people like that? That’s disgusting.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, Alteans are an endangered species,” Lance said. “We do what we need to in order to survive. Most of us have mixed backgrounds if we look far enough back, but thankfully, that’s not my job.”

“Whose job is it?” the black paladin asked curiously.

Nice try.

“You know,” Hunk drawled, nudging Lance’s arm, “we happen to be fighting against Emperor Zarkon.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” Lance deadpanned.

“I’m just saying,” Hunk said, raising his hands in a shrug, “the enemy of my enemy is my friend.”

Lance blinked. “What?”

“What Hunk’s trying to say, is you can fight Zarkon with us,” Pidge said. “We could use your expertise to-”

“No.”

“-fight back without hurting innocents again,” Pidge continued, ignoring Lance’s protest. “If we know where and who not to hit, we could cut down on casualties, be more efficient and less destructive. We could make a dent.”

There was a wariness in Lance’s eyes, but not outright dismissal. “I’m listening.”

“If you help us, we can protect you,” Pidge said firmly. “The Blue Lion will protect you. If you really aren’t loyal to Zarkon, then helping us shouldn’t bother you too much. If you’re loyal to the Galra Empire like you said and most of the Galra are honorable and only serve Zarkon because they fear him, then helping us would be to your advantage.”

Lance bit his lip, glancing at each paladin in turn.

“You have nothing to lose by helping us, and everything to win,” Pidge said. “It’s worth a shot. Besides, you could help me find my dad and my brother.” Lance looked back at her. “They were taken as slaves. With your help I can get them back and protect them.” Lance wavered. “Please?”

Lance gulped and dropped his gaze to the four pairs of eyes peering up at him in cute, furry faces and slumped in defeat. What else was he going to do? At least this way he got a bed and food.


	15. Quiznak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lance is quiznaked by a certain someone's smeg, a witch who may not be a witch, and a drone with bad intentions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** I totally had this chapter and a chapter for another story fully written and ready to go Saturday night. But then my computer decided to abruptly shut down and update. I lost most of my chapters. So after my computer spent another hour restarting and restarting the next day, I rewrote everything only to get a migraine courtesy of a very strong cold front. Oh boy...
> 
> So now I'm posting this at 12:30 am Monday night/Tuesday morning. Hope it's worth the wait.

Lance was creeping. He knew it. He admitted it. But he wouldn’t stop it. They started it first. He was just…participating… Yeah. That’s right. Lance was just participating. That was his story and he was sticking to it.

The crew of the Castleship had started the creepiness thing by accepting Lance so quickly. That just wasn’t right. No one should be so accepting of strangers so quickly or so easily. And yet, that’s exactly what this ragtag group of aliens from a strange planet he’d never heard of before had done.

No. Seriously. It was _creepy_. Allow him to provide examples.

Let’s start with Pidge. The green paladin wasn’t with him every tick of every quintant, but it was close. Lance would admit she was interesting and her computers were fascinating. He had no idea what the computers did because they were relatively low tech and used a coding language he wasn’t familiar with, but they were still fascinating.

But he wasn’t done. There were more examples. When Pidge wasn’t with him, and sometimes even when she was, Hunk would accompany Lance around the Castleship. The yellow paladin was amusing and friendly and Lance craved his cooking like nobody’s business. Speaking of, Lance would love to share some of Hunk’s cooking with his family. His siblings especially would love it, after they got over the ‘what-the-frell-is-this’ phase.

The yellow paladin was also very comfortable to lean against, very supportive. He snickered at his own joke. The other unexpectedly supportive person on the Castleship was the Champion. The black paladin would often join Hunk and Lance when they weren’t too busy to talk. He didn’t laugh as often or as easily as Hunk, but he smiled frequently and didn’t shy away from encouraging words.

Shiro. Lance had to start thinking of the black paladin as Shiro. He just… couldn’t see the Champion and Shiro being the same person. They were too radically different. It had barely been two quintants since Lance had been formally accepted into the group and he was already learning how to identify the different smiles Shiro had. It got to the point where there were times when, if he didn’t know better, Lance would have thought Shiro was… well…

But then, did he know better? It had only been two quintants, after all. That wasn’t a long time and Lance had seen the black paladin fight in the gladiator arena as the Champion for a year. Still, there was something about Shiro that just… wasn’t the Champion. It was so totally weird.

Speaking of weird, don’t even get him started on the red paladin. Actually, frak that. Lance wanted to rant about the red paladin. Frell that stupid hair, frell that stupid pouty face, frell those pretty eyes, and frell those stupid hands. Quiznak everything, Lance _hated_ those hands. Hated in the sense that he wanted to just take those gloves off and touch them. Why did that stupid jerk have to be so attractive?

Lance was quiznaked.

At least Keith avoided Lance. Unfortunately. More than once, Lance had shamelessly sulked when Keith didn’t show up to the group meal. Hunk seemed sure the red paladin was in the training deck. But Keith couldn’t stay in the training deck all quintant, every quintant. Or that’s what Lance thought.

He now knew that yes. Yes, Keith definitely could. Thank the ‘Verse the training deck had an observatory with a great view of the entire arena. Lance leaned against the control panel, his chin resting on his folded arms and his shins resting comfortably on the chair behind him on the floor. He traced Keith’s every move with his eyes and focused on breathing normally. It wasn’t easy.

The red paladin moved like a dancer, which was strange. Lance had never thought of battle as a dance before. But the more Keith thrust, slashed, and advanced on the training drone, the more Lance was reminded of the swift, sure steps of a ceremonial dancer. It was invigorating, to put it lightly. Lance gulped, ducking slightly so his mouth was buried in his folded arms and the hood of his recovered Druid robes hid his no doubt intense blush.

His ever present furry companion chittered and poked his cheek which only served to intensify his blush. Out of the four mice, the tiny blue mouse Chulatt seemed to be the most attached to Lance, riding on his shoulder almost everywhere he went. Chuchule also rode with him often. She would treat Lance like he was her son, chiding him with her squeaks and batting his cheeks with her pink furred paws. Platt, the green mouse, often accompanied Lance when he was going to meet Hunk because those meetings frequently involved food or some kind of treat. Plachu, however, had yet to fully trust Lance and would never let the Druid out of sight of his red eyes.

Blessedly, only Chulatt was with Lance right now. Lance adored little Chulatt. He could just imagine the mischief they could get up to, if he could only build up the courage to do so. He still wasn’t comfortable enough to pull pranks on his… comrades. He liked the other paladins, but he didn’t trust them. Not completely.

Blue rumbled in his mind, soothing some of his nerves and easing his blush.  But she also nudged him mentally with what Lance could only describe as feline coy laughter that brought back his flush with a vengeance. Lance may have whimpered. Hopefully, he’d done it mentally and not out loud. Chulatt was having enough fun at the Druid’s expense. No need to give the mouse more ammunition to use.

Keith danced out of the way of the drone’s staff weapon before dispatching it in one swift stroke of his red and white bayard blade. Was that it? Was that all? Was Keith finished? Please don’t be finished.

 _“Start Training Sequence Level 2,”_ Lance heard Keith call over the speakers.

Immediately, a panel in the ceiling slid open and two new training drones dropped to the arena. Keith took his stance and raised his blade just as the first drone attacked. With a sigh of relief, the observing Druid relaxed and continue to study Keith’s sme- STRATEGY! Yes. Yes, Lance was studying Keith’s strategy. Only his strategy. Because it was a very… er, eye catching s-strategy.

Lance groaned and shifted, letting his shoulders droop. He ducked his head even lower until just his eyes peered out over his folded arms at the training deck through the observatory windows. Chulatt wriggled out from his hiding place by Lance’s neck and peaked out from under the brown hood.

When the little mouse saw what still held Lance’s attention, Chulatt made a sound that the Druid just knew was teasing laughter. And just like that, the flush was back full force. This time Lance could feel his ears burning. His entire body seemed to warm up under his robes.

This was ridiculous. Keith had barely given Lance a second look before going out of his way to avoid him. Lance was still learning how to be an effective blue paladin, with Blue’s generous help, of course -the Blue Lion purred proudly like cool ripples in Lance’s mind- but he was still trying to figure out the group dynamic. With Keith only showing up for the few group training sessions the Voltron team did yesterday, Lance hadn’t had the chance to really talk to him yet.

Aside from teasing, of course.

Which was why Lance found himself in the training deck observatory watching Keith move and praying to everything he could think of that the red paladin would stop being so frelling sexy.

Lance was so quiznaked. And the worst part of this whole thing? Lance… actually wouldn’t mind being quiznaked. But only by Keith!

Aw, frell. He buried his face in his arms and whined. Why did the ‘Verse curse him to this fate? And yes, Chulatt was definitely laughing at him. Stupid, no good, irreplaceable, unrepentant, furry piece of-

“Oh. I-I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were-.”

What the frakking _quiznak?_

Before the princess could finish speaking, Lance flipped around, losing his footing on the chair and sliding down the slanted console he’d been leaning on to land with a dull thud on the floor. Not one of his more graceful moments, but the other Altean had caught Lance by surprise. He could hardly expect to be graceful when he’d been ogling the red paladin’s smeg just a tick ago.

“…here… uh…” Allura’s voice trailed away.

It should have made Lance feel better to see the witch looking just as shocked as he was. It didn’t. At all.

Of the two Alteans on board, Coran had been the one Lance had seen more often around the Castle. Granted, this was probably due to the princess deliberately avoiding Lance. Well, actually, it was the other way around. Lance was not ready to face the witch daughter of the Demon who spearheaded the near destruction of the Galran race and subsequently the Alteans as well. Perhaps it was unfair of him to refuse to even speak to her when everyone else spoke highly of her.

But seeing Princess Allura now, Lance…wasn’t afraid. Or, no, he was definitely still afraid. But he wasn’t terrified. The witch had dark circles under her eyes and looked thoroughly exhausted. She was half collapsed against the wall of the small control room with a hand over her chest and her hair hanging loose and free in unkept waves.

Lance was willing to bet his best set of earrings that Princess Allura was two steps from sleep right now. Okay, maybe not his best set of earrings. He loved those too much. His second best? Ehh… Okay, forget the whole betting personal items thing. He was too vain to give up his jewelry. He had to have some personal flair with his drab Druid robes, after all. How else was he supposed to stand out from the masses?

Ahem. Tangent.

“Ah, that was…” Allura cleared her throat awkwardly and shifted so she stood straighter, but still leaning on the wall by the door, “…a rather impressive, um, flop?”

And now Lance was blushing as red as Keith’s stupid jacket _in front of_ the witch. Fabulous. Well done Lance. When the princess didn’t say anything else, the silence began to stretch punctuated by the dull clang and clack of Keith fighting the training drones.

As the silence grew heavier, Allura’s shoulders began to droop as if the awkward quiet was a literal weight pressing on her. She looked like a whipped kotyr and it made Lance feel like a bully. Unable to face that pathetic expression any longer, Lance huffed and picked himself up. He brushed the invisible dust off his robes in an effort to regain his tattered dignity.

“I didn’t flop,” he grumbled reluctantly. In the corner of his eye, he watch the Altean princess’s shoulders lift ever so slightly. He grimaced. “I fell.” Like that was any better. “With style,” he amended.

A smile seemed to tug at the corners of Allura’s lips making them twitch upwards. “I see,” she said. “Is that what you young people are calling it these days.”

Lance blinked and turned to face the princess, utterly befuddled. Did… Did she just compliment him or insult him?

“Young people?” he said.

He very obviously ran his eyes up and down the princess’s form and _oh_ that was _wasn’t_ a dress she was wearing that was a _shift!_ Oh frell, this was awkward. Immediately, Lance looked anywhere _but_ the princess and found himself staring back out the observation window at Keith and that was _not better holy frakking frell **why?!**_

His face was burning and Chulatt was chittering by his ear which just made this whole situation worse. Embarrassed, Lance reached up and tugged his hood down over his face so he couldn’t see anything but fabric. His little mouse friend -although they would have to _discuss_ the whole ‘friend’ thing after the way it kept teasing him- batted his cheek and scampered out from under his hood and up to his shoulder.

“Well, yes,” Allura said, her soft footsteps padding across the observatory floor until she stood next to him by the control panel. “I may not be much older than you physically, but,” she glanced at him with a shy smile, “I suppose I am… older than you. So ‘young people’ it is.”

Lance snorted despite his best efforts not to laugh. “You’re weird,” he mumbled, peeking out from underneath his hood down at Keith again. Curiously, it was taking the red paladin longer to clear this level than it did the last one. Longer for Lance to watch.

“I’ll take weird,” the princess said softly. “It’s better than witch.”

Lance flinched, frowning. He could hear the princess shift nervously next to him. “I don’t trust you,” he said reluctantly. “They do,” he said, nodding to Keith, “but I don’t.”

Chulatt squeaked sadly but it was Allura who spoke. “I understand,” she said. “I… I don’t like it, but I do understand.”

It took more effort than Lance was willing to admit to not flinch when Allura placed her hand on his shoulder by his mouse companion.

“I just hope you will give me a chance,” the princess continued, her voice soft and tired. “You… _Seeing_ you… It gives me hope.”

Lance blinked, tilting his head in confusion.

“Coran and I were so sure we were the last Alteans,” Allura said. “We were so sure we were alone…”

Alone.

The worst way to die.

Lance swallowed back a niggling guilt that bloomed in his stomach at the thought, biting his lip to remain silent.

“You don’t have to tell me about the others, if you don’t want to,” Allura said, squeezing Lance’s shoulder gently. “But, I would like it if you would just… talk to me for a little bit. Over breakfast or something. It doesn’t have to be alone,” she added quickly. “Whoever you want can be there. I just don’t want to be alone. And I don’t think you want that either.”

No. He really didn’t.

He sighed, bowing his head. Hesitantly, he lowered his hood so he could see Allura gazing at him. Her turquoise eyes shimmered earnestly in the dim light, but they didn’t have the flash he was used to from his people. Her people. _Their_ people.

Ten thousand deca-phoebs was a long time. Afraid or not, Lance was curious about the differences between Allura and the Alteans he knew. That didn’t mean Lance trusted the princess. He didn’t. But he was willing to give her a chance. Maybe.

Chulatt squeaked and gave Lance the biggest, most watery blue eyes he’d ever seen. Well frell, now he really felt like a jerk. Risking a glance back at the princess, he was stunned to see her mirroring the mouse’s big, teary-eyed expression. Uh… No fair. He was a sucker for tears. His sisters knew that and used it against him all the time.

A tiny furry paw pressed against Lance’s flushed cheek and he groaned, hanging his head in defeat.

“Frak.”

“Oh! Is that a yes?” Allura said, clasping her hands in front of her lips hopefully.

Lance moaned.

“I’m taking that as a yes,” the princess chirped proudly. “Why don’t we talk later today, hm? Over dinner maybe?” She snatched Lance’s hands and held them between her own as she spoke, a glowing smile on her face. Lance flushed, his deep blue eyes wide in bewildered shock. “I want to ask you so much. But first, I want to know about the earrings you’re wearing. They’re so sparkly. I love shiny thing. Where did you ge-”

“Princess!”

Both Allura and Lance immediately looked at the person who’d just burst into the observatory, blinking in surprise. Interestingly, Allura wilted when she recognized their unexpected guest.

“Coran,” she whined.

“Princess, where have you been?” Coran demanded, rushing over to the princess in concern. “You should be resting. You still haven’t recovered from the Balmeran rejuvenation ceremony.”

“The what?” Lance asked, lifting an eyebrow in confusion.

“Oh, Lance, good to see you,” the advisor said, flashing Lance a strained smile. “Thank you for watching over Allura.”

“Uh, um.” Beautiful, Lance. Well done. Master of eloquence, Druid of the Empire, might as well add Silver-Tongued Lunatic to the mix while he was at it. Try again. “Y-you’re… welcome?”

Coran smiled and pulled Allura away from Lance towards the door. Allura was clearly not impressed by this development but appeared too weary and exhausted to argue. Her entire form drooped in defeat as she allowed herself to be led away by Coran. But not before casting a small smile over her shoulder at Lance.

“I would still love to talk with you,” she said. “If that’s okay.”

Lance shook his head a tad too quickly. “It’s fine,” he blurted. “Whenever.’

Her smile grew.

 _“Start Training Sequence Level 3,”_ Keith’s voice said over the speakers.

Allura’s eyes flickered to the window and something gleamed in her eye that Lance wasn’t sure he liked. Then she looked back at him and winked.

“Maybe we could even talk about Keith,” she said before finally leaning against Coran as they walked out together.

Oh. Frell.

She knew.

Damn, she _knew!_ Lance was so quiznaked. Oh ‘Verse. Oh frell. He was ruined.

He could hear the Altean advisor chuckling from down the hall and felt like he would just melt into the floor and vanish from humiliation. The wash of icy cold from Blue was a welcome relief. Until she purred and nudged him back to the observation window. Then he did sink to the floor and pull his hood as far over his face as possible. Chulatt was making squeaky sounds that Lance knew was laughter right by his ear and Lance whined pathetically.

He honestly felt so attacked right now.

_“End training sequence.”_

Hm? Already?

_“End training sequence!”_

Uh… Why would Keith say that again? Verbal commands only needed to be said onc-

_“End training sequence **now!** ”_

Why did Keith sound afraid?

Chulatt squeaked in concern as Lance got to his feet to look out over the training arena. Keith was fighting the same two drones as before, one wielding a staff weapon and the other a sword. Keith seemed to be holding his own, but only barely. Lance could make out the clenched teeth and whites of his eyes from up here.

Both drones attacked Keith at the same time and Keith struggled to keep up. The red paladin wasn’t able to dodge one of the swipes of the drone’s sword fast enough and a streak of red appeared on his cheek.

Why wasn’t the training sequence ending? Lance stared down at the controls and gulped when he realized he didn’t recognize a single symbol. Chulatt hopped down from his shoulder and pressed a group of buttons in a particular order. A mechanical hum spooled up, then promptly spooled down. When Chulatt pressed the same buttons in the same order and still nothing happened, Lance felt the beginnings of a gnawing fear.

Then the console lights turned red and Lance flinched. Impossible. How…?

A gut-wrenching thump followed by a sharp cry of pain jerked Lance’s attention back to the arena floor. One of the drones had struck Keith, sending him flying across the room where he landed and rolled limply, obviously winded. The red paladin pushed himself up to his forearms and stared at something on the other side of the room.

Lance followed Keith’s gaze and paled. The red bayard. Keith had no weapons.

No.

The drone with the staff weapon advanced faster than the drone with the sword.

This wasn’t his duty. These weren’t his people. They weren’t his charges, not officially. Other than his family and his people, Lance had only ever had charges assigned to him. The Voltron team were not under his protection. By all rights, Lance should _not_ be protecting them.

But they said they were going to take down Zarkon. They promised to try.

And Keith was too cute to die.

“Fuck.”

With Chulatt squealing in his ear, and the wry hope that he’d used that human curse word correctly, Lance raised his hand, drew on his quintessence, and fired a bolt of blue-white at the drone with the staff. The white and gold robot crumbled to the floor, a sizzling hole in the center of its back.

Keith stared wide-eyed up at the observatory where Lance stood staring right back. Then Keith frowned and got to his feet. Before Lance could shout a warning, the red paladin ran straight for the drone with the sword, falling to his knees a split-tick before getting beheaded. Riding his momentum, Keith slid on his knees across the floor to his bayard, scooped it up, and bolted out the doors.

Lance heaved a sigh of relief when the doors slid shut, then choked when the drone drove its sword between the doors to wedge them open.

“Keith!”

The drone paused long enough to turn its faceless head up to the observatory. The light on its forehead glowed the same red as the console as it stared directly at Lance. The hairs on the back of Lance’s neck stood on end. Every instinct Lance had honed during his training as a Druid screamed at him to _run. Run. Enemy. Being watched. Surrounded. Flee. Now!_

Metal brushing metal hissed near the ceiling of the arena and Lance dared to look up. Another drone, this one wielding a staff just like the drone Lance destroyed fell to the arena floor. It too stared sightlessly up at Lance for a tick before charging towards the observatory.

The observatory may have been a few spans above the arena, but Lance wasn’t taking any chances. Swiping Chulatt from the console, Lance turned and tripped over himself in his rush to escape the small room. The feeling of being watched didn’t vanish when he reached the hallway. It only increased.

Metal shoes slammed against the hallway floor behind him and he chanced a look back just in time to receive a solid smack to the head. The force of the strike tossed him into the wall, knocking the wind out of him. Air whistled and he dropped to the floor just as metal struck where his head had been.

He kicked out at the drone’s knee, knocking it off balance and giving him the chance to run. He staggered as his head pounded and his vision blurred. Frak! He couldn’t teleport like this. He looked back over his shoulder and saw the drone regain its footing, spin its staff to a ready position, and charge after him, the light on its head gleaming blood red.

Dear ‘Verse. Lance had seen that red glow before. Those drones… That red light… Like an eye.

Commander Sendak’s eye.


	16. Decompress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lance runs from a drone, locks a pseudo-friend in a tight space, and comes face-to-face with space himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** I'm officially using this fic as my NaNoWriMo project starting the word count with this chapter. We'll see if I can pull another win this year. Wish me luck~
> 
> Also, I have FANART now!!! I forgot to post the link to its awesomeness last night because I was so tired.

Faster. Faster. Must go faster. Frell frell frell frellfrellfrell _FUCK!_

Lance choked, his hands scrabbling at the fabric pulled tight around his throat. Damn it! The drone must have caught his hood. Chulatt squealed, clinging to the collar of his undershirt while Lance kicked uselessly. He struggled to run, get away, escape, _breathe_ only to be tossed back down the hall he’d just ran down, skidding across the smooth metal floor.

Alright. Lance decided Druid robes were utterly useless in close combat. Lance already sucked at close combat, but in his official robes? No chance. He coughed and began working his arms through the sleeves, wriggling as the thick, heavy material caught on the softer fabric of his underclothes. Chulatt’s continual squeaking by his ear wasn’t helping calm him down at all either.

It was getting increasingly difficult to move and Lance was panicking. Chulatt squealed a warning at the same time the clang of metal on metal echoed ominously through the corridor. The not-so-training drone was approaching Lance’s sprawled, tangled, currently helpless form. One arm finally slipped out of its sleeve, but the other one was still trapped in a web of fabric and Lance was still trapped. He needed his hands to cast his weaponized quintessence.

Not good. Not good. Not good.

His heart was racing in his chest and his hands were shaking almost too badly to have any useful coordination. Chulatt wailed and tugged his ear just as movement flashed in the corner of his eye. Lance jerked back a split-tick before the drone’s battle staff slammed into the floor where his face had been. A faint hum reached his ears and he may have whined. Not electricity again.

His other arm came free and Lance flipped onto his back, slinging a leg wildly in the general direction of the drone. He missed the robot, but struck the robot’s staff, knocking it off its intended trajectory. Jolts of electricity zinged down his leg for his trouble ripping a cry from his throat and a high-pitched squeak from Chulatt.

But the move, however twitchy it made him, had served its purpose. Lance reached up through the interior of the robes and ducked through the head hole into the darkness of the fabric. He flailed about, trying to confuse the drone’s targeting system. Drones tended to react to motion so if he kept moving and flailing, hopefully any staff attacks would miss his actual chest or head and just hit the fabric, his arms, or his legs. Not that he wanted that to happen. He _really_ hated getting electrocuted.

Fur brushed his hand then a tiny body bopped his leg. Follow the mouse. Another kick flung the bottom hem of his Druidic robes high enough to reveal the bright light of the hallway and Chulatt waving at him. Lance launched himself at the opening, for once thrilled to see bright light even if it did make his eyes water. The movement predictably caught the drone’s attention, but this time Lance was ready.

He grabbed a handful of his robes with one hand, rolled onto his back once more, and slung the robes up into the drone’s line of sight. The thick, heavy fabric caught and tangled in the robot’s mechanical arms and covered its head effectively blinding and binding it. Aw yes!

Lance got to his feet, scooped Chulatt up in one hand, and swung his free fist at the robot’s chest. The dull thud was satisfying, but _quiznak_ his hand hurt! Gasping and hissing, Lance shook his smarting hand out and ran down the hallway. Chulatt took the opportunity to claw out of Lance’s hand and up his clothes so he sat back on Lance’s shoulder, clinging to his collar. Lance didn’t really pay attention to what direction he went, just that it was away from that thing!

Where to go. Where to go. Lift!

Lance slammed the activation button on the lift and bounced on the balls of his feet as he waited. The lights indicating the level the rising lift passed flashed on and off. Too slow. Damn. Chulatt chirped urgently and Lance turned. He jumped when he saw the drone stumbling down the hall towards him, the brown robes still tangled around its legs inhibiting its gate. Lance glanced at the lights, then back at the oncoming drone.

“Frak this,” he muttered.

Without pausing to think about his decision, Lance ran down the other hall branching out from the central lift perpendicular to the one he’d just come down. He slammed the open button by the first door he came on. The doors slid gracefully open and Lance dove inside, slapping the close button and activating the locking mechanism.

Stepping back, he used the chance to catch his breathe and look frantically around him. Chulatt shuffled against his neck as he lifted his gaze to the high ceilings. Tall columns stood on either side of him and a _step that came out of nowhere what?!_ With an embarrassingly high-pitched cry, Lance tumbled to the floor staring up at the single step down he’d missed.

He was really getting annoyed with this. He glared without heat at Chulatt who chortled at his sprawl. Falling on his butt was seriously inelegant. His butt was not made to be slammed. Not like that anyway. You had to ask permission to slam it the only way he preferred, thank you very much. Not that the Elders would approve, but after he did his duty they wouldn’t have a say in his personal life anymore. Then he might have a chance at having something more preferable slam his butt.

If he survived this, that is.

“Lance?”

Whirling to his feet in a motion that was both graceful and absolutely on purpose -he’d fight anyone who said otherwise- Lance stared at the other person standing in this room. Oh. He recognized where he was now. Why did he always end up here? Please tell him it wasn’t an omen.

“Coran?” Lance gasped, still trying to calm his pounding heart. “Why are you in here? I thought you were taking care of the witch.”

Chulatt chittered softly and the orange-red mustache wilted -was that even a thing?- as the Altean advisor drooped. “She’s not a witch, Lance,” he said, shaking his head sadly. “I put Allura to bed so now I’m back to my chores.”

“Doing what?” Lance asked.

He spun to look over his shoulder with wide eyes when a dull thud rumbled against the cryopod room door. His furry friend also stiffened.

“Cleaning the pods, of course,” Coran said with a casual shrug and waving a polishing cloth in the air. “They’re relatively decent at self-cleaning, but it always helps to add a little elbow grease to make sure all the dirt and grim from 10,000 deca-phoebs of-”

Another disconcerting thump and Lance hopped shamefully high, no longer paying attention to the advisor’s rambling. His breath stuttered and his heart skipped in time with Chulatt’s chittering. Would the lock hold? Oh ‘Verse, please hold.

“Hey, Coran?” he asked, his eyes fixed on the door. “Is there any way out of here other than that door?”

“Hmm?” Coran said. “No. Why?”

Another thump and this time sparks of electricity arced over the door.

“Because that thing’s going to break in here and kill us,” Lance said. Well, kill him at least.

“What thing?” the advisor said, pausing and staring at the young Druid curiously. “Lance?”

Before Lance could figure out what to say, there was another thump and burst of sparks. The locking mechanism short-circuited and the door slid open revealing the staff wielding drone.

“That thing,” Lance said, shrinking back and raising his hands in a defensive stance. Chulatt squealed and clung tightly to his collar, pressing its tiny body against his neck.

He heard Coran gasp in shock behind him, but he ignored it in favor of tracking the drone’s charge. He drew on his quintessence, shivering convulsively as ice sluiced through his veins accompanied by a rumbling purr of concern and support from Blue. He was still too dizzy from a pounding headache to safely teleport or cast lightning. That electrified staff could too easily bounce his lightning right back at him. But he could still cast a few illusions.

Chulatt chirped in surprise when two identical versions of Lance materialized on either side of himself, crouching and lurching forward to attack at the same time he did. The illusions were solid in appearance but incorporeal unless Lance willed enough quintessence into them. It took too much energy to keep them solid the whole time, so he only channeled quintessence into them when they made contact with the enemy. It was more energy efficient that way. The only catch was he had to keep an eye on them to always know when they were going to strike.

“Lance, look out!” Coran cried.

Lance saw it, dodged it -mindful of Chulatt still hanging onto his collar- and sent a spring of quintessence into the illusion on his right just as it struck out with a high kick. The drone jolted to the side and turned to face the illusion, slashing downward with its staff. It never made contact. For a tick, Lance could have sworn the drone paused in confusion when its staff swung straight through the now incorporeal illusory Lance.

He took the chance to turn tail and run to Coran at the same time he urged his second illusion to follow. Lance may not know the advisor very well or trust him hardly at all, but that didn’t mean he was going to let Mustache die. Besides, Chulatt liked Coran and that had weight in Lance’s book.

“Get in a pod!” Lance shouted, waving both his own arm and an illusory arm towards the pod Coran had been polishing to within an inch of its life.

“What? What is going on here?” Coran cried, his eyes wide in honest shock and dawning fear.

“Don’t know. Not important right now. Get in!”

Coran made to rush past Lance towards the exit. “We need to get out and warn the pri-”

“No, you’re not,” Lance hissed, using his illusory self to push Coran back.

The advisor stumbled into the side of the cryopod. “What? No! We need to warn the others!” he said, struggling against both Lances. His eyes darted between the now solid illusion and the real Lance, unsure which was which. Then he noticed a squealing Chulatt on the real Lance’s shoulder and frowned. “Something’s going on! We need to-”

“You need to get out of its range,” Lance said, manhandling the advisor into the cryopod. “It can’t get you in here.”

“No. I can help,” Coran said, fighting against the four hands pushing him back. “What’s going on? Tell me. I know this Castle like the back of my hand. I can he- Behind you!”

Lance’s illusion spun around and caught the drone’s staff with its hands just as the second illusion slammed bodily into the drone. It didn’t do much, but it was enough to distract it from Coran and the real Lance.

“How are you _doing_ that?” Coran asked, staring at the losing battle going on right behind Lance’s back.

Lance could feel his quintessence draining from him as he began keeping both illusions solid to fight effectively. They drew from his knowledge of hand-to-hand combat -which wasn’t much honestly, but was better than nothing- to hold back the drone. Unfortunately, they were getting zapped by electricity which only served to further deplete Lance’s quintessence. He wasn’t exhausted yet, but if he let this drag on for much longer, he would be.

“Training,” Lance gasped as he felt sparks dance across one of his illusions’ skin again. Chulatt patted his cheek and chirped worriedly. “Look at _me_ , Coran,” he said, ignoring Chulatt and shaking the advisor forcefully. “You said you know this place.”

“Uh. Y-yes,” Coran said, nodding quickly. “My grandfather built it a lo-”

“Not important!” Lance snapped. “Do you know what’s causing that?” he demanded, pointing at the renegade drone.

Coran followed Lance’s hand and blinked, his mouth hanging open. “No,” he said, frightened. “That isn’t- They aren’t supposed to be active out of the training arena. They-”

Shut up! “Coran!” The Altean advisor’s attention whipped back to Lance and the Druid gulped. “Does this have anything to do with Commander Sendak?”

Chulatt squeaked and the advisor paled visibly. “No,” Coran whispered. “No, that’s impossible.”

“What? Ah!” Quintessence crashed out of him. One of his illusions had been destroyed. Frak. Running low on time. _“What_ is impossible?”

“The memory core is a one-way transfer,” Coran mumbled, his eyes bouncing back and forth, staring into middle space, as his thoughts raced. “It’s a closed system. It shouldn’t be able to leak out and affect the Castle this way.”

“Memory core?” Lance said, grasping that thought. “What are you doing with a memory core? Where is it? Who’s connected to it?”

“Sendak!” Coran shouted. “We needed information so we hooked a memory core up to Sendak’s prison pod.”

“He’s _alive?!”_ Lance cried. “I thought- But he’s in a cryopod-”

“Prison pod,” Coran corrected, glancing worriedly at the drone. “Your… other self isn’t faring too-”

“Coran _focus!”_ Lance hissed, shaking the advisor. “He’s alive? Commander Sendak is alive? And you hooked a memory core to him?”

“His pod, yes,” the advisor said, nodding shakily.

Lance groaned. “Oh, you _idiot!_ Memory cores are insecure! Galra commanders are trained to take advantage of them and infiltrate nearby systems. How can you all be so frakking _stupid?!_ Get in there and think about what you did!”

He pushed Coran into the cryopod and slapped the activation button. The advisor gasped and attempted to lurch forward only to run into the transparent seal. Chulatt squealed and yanked Lance’s collar, reaching a tiny paw out to the advisor. Lance stayed just long enough to confirm the cryo process had begun before turning tail and racing out of the cryopod chamber.

He had no more use for his abused illusion so he dismissed it when he stepped through the door back into the hallway. The light above the lift indicated the infernal device was finally on this floor so he darted to the door. Just as he stepped into the lift the drone reappeared in the hallway, running towards him. It thrust its staff out so the lift doors hit it and stopped. Chulatt squealed in fear that mirrored the fear Lance felt in himself.

Oh frell no.

Lance slammed himself bodily against the staff, forcing it back so the doors could close all the way. His sleeve got caught between the doors but that wasn’t too big of a deal. He smashed his fingers against a floor button at random and waited as the lift moved down way to slow for his taste.

He had to disconnect Commander Sendak from the memory core. All active Druids and Galra in command positions were required to undergo training to resist memory cores. Those devices were old technology and not widely used anymore because they had certain vulnerabilities that could be taken advantage of by those trapped within.

Before Haggar had discovered those vulnerabilities, several captured resistance members had been able to escape their memory core prisons. They had managed to wrest control of whole battlecruisers from their commanders and fly them into planetary atmospheres without the required protections and at the wrong angles. They’d disintegrated, killing everyone on board. One notable time, a battlecruiser had been piloted straight into a star’s corona, destroying it.

Lance had no desire to experience that. He liked being alive. No way was he going to die because some crazy lunatic decided he was expendable. Acceptable loss, his perfect smeg.

He had to get to Commander Sendak’s prison pod and try to stop him from doing something too dangerous. He was assigned to the commander. He still had a duty to protect him. He swore an oath before setting foot on that battlecruiser to protect everyone on board. He’d failed to protect them from Voltron.

But what about the Voltron team? What about the witch who didn’t seem too bad? Or Coran the Mustache Man? Or Hunk and his tasty cooking? Or Shiro and his many different smiles? Or what about Chulatt and his other mousy friends? Or Pidge and the truce he had with her?

Truces were held in high regard by the Galra. Once a truce was made, it was held until someone did something stupid. Lance had agreed to a truce with Pidge, a Druid of the Galra Empire to the green paladin of Team Voltron. If he broke it…

But would he be breaking his oath if he spoke to Commander Sendak? If he could convince the commander to spare the Castleship, then he would be preventing the loss of life of everyone, himself included. That wouldn’t be breaking the truce.

But what if Commander Sendak piloted the Castleship to Central Command instead? Then Emperor Zarkon would have Voltron like he wanted, the paladins’ lives would -probably- be spared, Commander Sendak would be extracted from the memory core and revived, and Lance could go home and see his family.

But what about Keith?

A soft purr nudged his mind, gentle and soothing. Cold slowly froze his veins and he noticed how badly his chest ached. He was gasping and his heart was thudding so hard against his rib cage that it felt like it would just pound right out. He shivered as the cold from the Blue Lion’s mental presence slipped through his veins into his heart, cooling it and slowing its hysterical beating.

As his heartbeat eased, his breathing slowed as well. He closed his eyes, let his head rest against the lift doors, felt Chulatt curl up in the dip of his neck, and opened his inner self to the Blue Lion’s influence. She surged into his mind, freezing him from the inside out and filling him with her calming presence. He loved her. She loved him.

He didn’t want to hand her over to the emperor. But he wanted to go home. She loved him. But he loved his family. She was his anchor in this insanity. But… home, his sisters, his life… Blue purred and nuzzled him tenderly, enveloping him in a bubble of adoration and trust. He couldn’t betray her.

But…

The lift doors slid open and he flailed, catching himself as he fell to the floor. A quick swipe of his hand kept Chulatt securely on his shoulder. With a sigh, Lance looked around warily, pushing himself up to his feet. He didn’t know what floor he was on, but whichever one it was, he was glad it was dimly lit. This must not be a frequently used floor. Most floors were almost painfully bright.

With hesitant steps, he made his way down the main hallway to the intersection. Chulatt cheeped and batted his neck with its tail. A hallway extended in either direction from the intersection. Portals that looked like general use airlocks lined the wall in front of him. They were large enough for space jumps or maybe space walks, but nothi-

What was that?

Something flickered faintly at the far end of the hall to the right. Disconcerted, Lance took one cautious step down the dim corridor, staring fixedly at the far wall. The light flickered again and yes, there was definitely someone down there.

“Hello?” he called. Chulatt echoed his call in mouse-ish.

Strange. This was perfect lighting for him to see without squinting and yet he couldn’t see anyone. But he could have sworn…

Coming to a stop by the furthest airlock, Lance frowned. There was no one here. Unnerved, he reached up and patted Chulatt’s furred head, pinching its silky ears gently.

“This doesn’t make sense,” he muttered, scanning the whole corridor for any sign of a person. “I know what I saw.”

Something behind him made a soft ping sound along with a muffled ding and he glanced over his shoulder. One of the airlock panels was flashing red. Strange. Was it active? It didn’t look active when he walked past it before.

Chulatt squeaked softly by his ear as he approached the airlock. There was nothing in the airlock that he could see through the transparent sections of the door. The door on the far side of the airlock keeping the vacuum out was also still shut. And yet the airlock’s control panel on the wall was still pinging every time the red light flashed.

This was not a good idea. Something crawled up his spine, setting the fine hairs on the back of his neck on end. It felt like he was being watched. Disturbed, he looked both ways. No one. He was alone, aside from Chulatt. He reached up to pet the blue mouse on his shoulder to comfort and reassure himself more than anything else and turned back to the airlock with a sigh.

There was someone behind him.

He couldn’t move. He could barely breathe. He could just stare into the eyes of the Altean standing directly behind him. The stranger placed a hand on his shoulder and Lance’s skin crawled. He couldn’t look away from that stare. It was…

_“Traitors are not welcome here.”_

Chulatt squealed by his ear and metal thunked dully on the floor of the hallway to his left, but he couldn’t look at them. He couldn’t look away from the spectre. Because that’s what it was, he realized. A spectre. He couldn’t feel the faint ebb and flow of quintessence through the hand on his shoulder. This person wasn’t alive.

But the dead didn’t just get up and walk around. Even Haggar was hesitant to mess with the dead. So then how…

Or maybe alive wasn’t the right word. Maybe it wasn’t real.

He swallowed against a suddenly dry throat. “Who are you?” he whispered.

The hand on his shoulder tightened and those eerie eyes narrowed viciously. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t _run._ Metal continued to thunk towards him, steadily, rhythmically, inevitably.

_“I am King Alfor of Altea.”_

...oh… frell…

The Demon of Altea moved closer until Lance could almost imagine he felt heat against his back and breath on the side of his vulnerable neck. His heart seemed to stop beating and his breath seemed to still in his lungs. Distantly, he could hear Chulatt squealing and tugging on his ear, but he couldn’t move.

He was going to die.

The Demon leaned down so his deathly white lips brushed Lance’s ear. _“And I will not suffer a Druid of the Galra Empire to live on this ship.”_

No. Please no.

“Please,” he begged so quietly he wasn’t even sure he actually said it so much as thought it. “Please… don’t…”

Something white and gold in Lance’s peripheral vision brushed his other shoulder and suddenly he couldn’t hear Chulatt. He almost looked when a hand suddenly pressed against his back directly between his shoulder blades. Fear spiked through him. Distantly, he could hear the Blue Lion roar in fear for her paladin and fury at his attacker. But all the ice in the world couldn’t save him.

The Demon’s hand slipped off his shoulder and reached out to the airlock’s control panel.

“No,” Lance pleaded.

A spectral finger touched the flashing red light.

“No. Please.”

The light turned green.

“Mercy.”

The airlock doors opened and the hand on his back pushed, sending him stumbling to his hands and knees inside the airlock. It only took a tick for him to fully comprehend what was happening. Terrified, Lance turned and tried to scramble back to the door. The door slid back down, sealing him inside.

“No,” he breathed. “No!”

The Demon met his gaze once more, holding him captive. He shook his head, his blue eyes wide with terror.

“Please. Don’t do this, please. _Please!”_

Something moved next to the Demon and Lance paled, falling to his knees. The drone. It stood passively next to the Demon’s spectral form, waiting to watch Lance die. He heard soft taps from near the bottom of the door and looked down. Chulatt was scratching at the door and staring up at him with wide blue eyes and squeaking silently at him.

Lance reached out and placed his hand on the glass in front of Chulatt. The tiny mouse opened its mouth in what Lance was sure was a wail of despair and his vision blurred with tears. Lifting his gaze back to the Demon, Lance stood on wobbly legs. The Demon’s hand dropped back to his side and the white light embedded in the encircling support beams of the airlock turned red and began flashing.

 _“Decompression in ten ticks,”_ a mechanical voice said tonelessly. _“10…9…”_

He couldn’t get out of here. If he tried blasting the door with lightning, he would electrocute himself and still be blasted out into space. Airlocks were protected from sudden electrical pulses and attacks. Airlocks were weaknesses in a ship’s exterior. If the ship suffered an explosive decompression from a short-circuit in an airlock system, it could spell the death of everyone inside.

_“…8…7…”_

Lance backed up so he could wedge himself in the corner between the glowing support beam and the airlock wall. He timed his breathing with the countdown. He had to be sure he didn’t hold his breath.

_“…6…5…”_

Movement by the door drew his attention. The Demon vanished and the drone darted out of view, its staff raised. Probably to go kill someone else. Lance looked back down at little Chulatt. The tiny mouse refused to leave him. It was no longer pawing at the airlock door but trying desperately to climb up the smooth metal wall to reach the control panel.

_“…4…3…”_

For some reason, the sight of Chulatt -cute, furry, tiny Chulatt- fighting so hard to save his life warmed his heart. Lance smiled and leaned back, resting his head against the corner. Wet, broken laughter mixed with sobs. He would never go home. He would never see his family again. He closed his eyes and braced.

_“…2…”_

Someone cared about him. Chulatt cared. Blue roared in his mind, freezing his muscles, infusing them with her quintessence and strength. She loved him. She didn’t want to lose him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

_“…1…”_

The outer door opened and the airlock violently decompressed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N:** I don't normally do this, but I'm de-anoning. If anyone's interested, I'm on tumblr: fanfiction-writer.tumblr.com.


	17. Disseminate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Keith sees something terrible, meets someone good, and really wishes everyone had just slept in today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** I firmly support the headcanon that Keith is low-key Texan and his accent does come out despite his best efforts otherwise. But then again, I am a Southerner and my mom is Texan so... Yeah, I shamelessly embrace my accent and slang.
> 
> Also, I have fanart now!!! Check out this beautiful art by _obelus_ here: https://twitter.com/f5ver/status/923750061883899904
> 
>  **Sources for decompression effects on the body:  
> **  
>  1) http://www.geoffreylandis.com/vacuum.html  
>  **2)** https://futurism.com/6-ways-the-interstellar-vacuum-will-actually-kill-you/

This was flippin’ ridiculous! He was exhausted and running out of places to run. At this point, he was running on adrenaline and the power of pure stubbornness and determination to win. No way in hell was Keith going to lose a fight to a stupid robot. He was better than that.

He lifted his bayard blade and blocked another downward slash of the robot’s energy sword, grunting with effort as he strained to keep the enemy sword at bay. He was tiring. He wouldn’t be able to hold out if this lasted much longer. Damn it all, where was Shiro when Keith needed him?

More to the point, where was that Druid? Hadn’t he been up in the observatory above the training arena? Had he been the one to turn off the safety settings or whatever caused those training drones to go berserk? But, then again, the Druid had blasted that one drone to smithereens with that blue lightning. Lance wouldn’t have done that if he’d been behind this insanity, right?

Either way, Keith hadn’t seen hide nor tail of the Druid since and that was strangely beginning to annoy. Lance saw what happened so why hadn’t he spread the word? Raised the alarm? Something?

Or maybe he had and the other paladins just hadn’t managed to get to Keith yet? Or were they dealing with similar acts of insane robot attacks. Damn it all, it was the freaking Rise of the Machines and Keith was at the center of it. He’d always been more of a _Walking Dead_ person anyway. Zombies were so much easier to deal with than robots. Chop off the head, end of problem. Robots… took more work.

The Red Lion roared angrily in his mind, singeing his sense of self so he could hear what she wanted him to do. With a hiss, Keith planted his foot on the drone’s metal chest and used the combined leverage of his bayard and leg to force it back. He would have to go down a few levels to get to the Red Lion’s hanger, but he was close to the lift so that shouldn’t be too big of a problem.

Turning on his heel, Keith booked it down the hall as fast as his weary feet could carry him. Bringing his red and white blade up, he sliced it neatly through the seam between the two lift doors and jerked it perpendicular so the doors wedged open. The lift wasn’t on this level, but Keith could still work with this. Metal stomped down the floor behind him and he didn’t really have a choice but to work with this.

Slipping between the opening in the doors, Keith flailed briefly before regaining his balance on the knife edge of a ledge. He deactivated his bayard and smirked darkly when he heard a very satisfying thud on the other side of the door. Unfortunately, he didn’t have long to appreciate his small victory before a blue energy blade slid between the lift doors just like his bayard had done.

Time to move. Quickly scanning the lift tube, he realized there were no handholds to be seen, just five slots running the full length of the tube housing the tracks the lift rode up and down on. Crap. He looked down and his violet eyes widened with glee.

The lift doors creaked open and Keith didn’t take any chances. Taking a deep breathe, he stepped off the ledge and braced for a hard landing. His shoes made twin thuds when he crash landed on the lift roof, but he hadn’t broken, sprained, or twisted anything. His feet did ache, though it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle.

Dropping to his hands and knees, Keith felt around for the emergency hatch that all elevators back on Earth had. If the Altean lift didn’t have one of those then Keith would have _words_ with the designers. The tips of his fingers found the outline of the hatch and he breathed a gusty sigh of relief. Yanking the hatch up, he scooted forward so his legs hung through the opening. One last glance above him and Keith grabbed the hatch, pulling it down behind him as he fell to the floor inside the lift.

He winced when he heard the thunderous bang of the drone landing on the roof, noting the unnerving dents where the drone’s feet were. He hit the button to open the lift doors and hefted his bayard when he stepped out. The hatch on the lift ceiling opened and Keith did one last thing because he felt like being a dick. He reached into the lift, hit the button for the highest floor of the Castleship and then the door-close button.

He yanked his hand back just as the drone landed on the lift floor and the doors slammed shut. Once again, the blue energy blade slid between the doors, but Keith grinned as the blade moved steadily up the slit before being cut off by the solid metal between floors as the lift rose. He kicked the lift doors in grim satisfaction. He could catch his breath finally.

Or not.

The all too familiar sound of metal boots racing down the hall behind him jolted him back into battle mode. He activated and raised his bayard blade just in time to deflect the staff weapon of yet another drone. What in the holy hell was going on here?! Really though!

_“…6…5…”_

What was that? A countdown? Keith slipped past the drone, striking it in the vulnerable joint of its shoulder with his blade and grinning when the arm fell off in shower of sparks. When he reached the hallway intersection, he turned to face the drone, bracing for the oncoming attack.

Suddenly a flashing red light to his left caught his attention. Glancing down the hall to his left, he barely had time to realize it was one of the airlocks flashing. Oh shit. Were the airlocks malfunctioning too?

_“…4…3…”_

Keith deflected another sweep of the drone’s staff, grunting when his hands tingled from what felt like an electrical shock. Staff weapons had a greater reach than Keith’s bayard blade, but they were really only good for defense in close combat. In other words, against just the staff wielding drone, Keith had the advantage.

_“…2…”_

Keith ducked under a wide sweep, stepping into the drone’s guard and slicing the robot in two at the waist. The drone froze then collapsed in a pile of scrap metal and sparks at Keith’s feet. High-pitched squealing reached his ears and his lifted his head to look towards the sound just in time to see one of Allura’s mice hopping and scratching uselessly at the metal wall by the active airlock.

_“…1…”_

The air inside the active airlock abruptly filled with fog, obscuring everything left inside. Stunned, Keith ran to the airlock door and stared out wondering what had caused the unauthorized activation. Something fluttered against the right wall of the airlock but he couldn’t make out what it was through the fog.

“Ow!” he cried when tiny claws raked his ankle.

He looked down and shook his foot in annoyance, stilling when he saw the blue mouse scratching at his skin and squalling at him. Keith wasn’t a Disney princess like Allura and, he reluctantly admitted, Lance. Keith couldn’t understand or speak Mouse.

But the little mouse was insistent and wouldn’t stop wailed and scratching and pointing to the airlock.

“I-I have no idea what you’re trying to… say…”

His voice trailed off as he stared through the dissipating fog in growing horror. He’d been wondering where that crazy Druid had gone. Now he knew. Lance had been inside the airlock when it decompressed without any form of protection.

Somehow, the Druid had been able to keep from being sucked out into space by the intense rush of air during the decompression by wedging himself in the corner between a support beam and the airlock wall. But now that the pressure was balanced, there was no raging wind to hold Lance in place or artificial gravity to anchor the Druid’s feet to the floor.

Lance was now floating weightlessly in the vacuum, lifeless, and unmoving.

“Oh my god!” Keith breathed, unable to tear his eyes from the awful scene.

He jumped to the control panel and smacked the deactivation button, praying to everything he could think of that he wasn’t too late. Please tell him it hadn’t been more than ten seconds since decompression. Oh god, _please_ tell him Lance hadn’t held his breath!

The airlock’s outer doors slammed shut so the chamber could safely recompress and the artificial gravity could come back online. Keith watched helplessly as the Druid’s limp body fell abruptly to the floor with a sickening thud. He pounded at the transparent doors as the airlock finished recompressing. A deceptively harmless ding indicated the completion of recompression and the inner door Keith leaned against slid up allowing him and the little blue mouse access.

Keith ran straight to Lance, pressing two fingers to the Druid’s disturbingly pale neck. Lance’s lips were tinged blue and his body was slightly swollen. Keith knew of the dangers and side effects of exposure to vacuum to the body from his time as a Garrison fighter pilot. He’d undergone explosive decompression exercises with the other cadets in preparation for space travel. He’d read about the consequences of direct exposure to vacuum, but seeing it firsthand…

He peeled back one of the Druid’s eyelids and winced when he saw the red, bloodshot eyeball staring sightlessly up at nothing. This wasn’t good. It couldn’t have been more than eight seconds between decompression and recompression. With any luck, Lance was just unconscious from the lack of oxygenated blood and not… not…

Don’t be dead.

The Druid’s entire body spasmed sharply, reflexively gasping for breath and startling a hoarse cry from Keith. The red paladin lifted Lance up so he could support the Druid’s upper body with his arms. He had never been so happy to hear coughing and gasping before in his entire life. Lance’s body was still slightly swollen and no doubt in pain, but he was alive and that’s all that mattered. They would deal with everything else later.

The little blue mouse climbed up Keith’s pants leg and onto the Druid’s shirt to cuddle up under Lance’s chin. It was adorable and Keith squeezed the crazy Druid to his chest as tightly as he dared. That had been too close.

Speaking of, Keith lurched to his feet and jumped out of the airlock. Once they were safely out in the hallway, he pressed the door lock button with his elbow. Lance was crazy, but he wasn’t stupid. Whatever had driven the Druid into the airlock must have been something important or impossible to resist. Something like a surprise attack, Keith thought, glancing back at the destroyed drone lying on the floor with a dark frown.

Shiro. Keith needed to find Shiro. The black paladin would know what to do. But first, Keith looked down at the Druid’s face in concern, he had to get Lance to a healing pod. Lance may have survived his brush with absolute vacuum, but Keith wanted to nip any chances of lingering bad effects in the bud.

To the healing pod chamber it was then.

He strode to the lift and waited impatiently for the infernal elevator to arrive. He really needed to have a talk with Coran and Allura about speeding these things up. They ran way too slow to suit Keith. Also, did Alteans have no concept of emergency exits? Seriously, if the Castle of Lions ever lost power, how were the paladins supposed to get to their Lions? Scratch that, how were they supposed to get anywhere? Climb up the lift tubes back-to-back, arms locked, and feet braced against the wall? Um, no. That was stupid. Keith wouldn’t be caught dead doing that.

Lance groaned and shifted in Keith’s arms, mumbling something unintelligible. Blue eyes fluttered open, bloodshot and not at all healthy looking. He really needed a healing pod ASAP. Keith bit back a sigh of relief when the lift doors finally hissed open. But when he stepped inside-

The drone with the sword Keith had imprisoned in the lift was destroyed and lying in a heap of smoldering metal on the floor. How…?

“Keith?”

What? Keith looked up and stared at the person already in the lift in surprise. Speak of the devil. “Shiro?” he said.

“My god. What happened?” Shiro gasped, deactivating his Druid-enhanced hand and staring at Lance’s semi-conscious form in the red paladin’s arms. He pulled Keith all the way into the lift and hit the button for the floor with the healing pod chamber as he spoke.

“Airlock,” Keith said in a curt voice. The adrenaline was beginning to wear off and Keith was starting to feel every ache and pain in his exhausted body. “He got trapped in an airlock when it decompressed.”

“What?!” Shiro cried. Dark gray eyes locked on Lance’s face as he took the Druid’s pulse and examined the cloudy, bloodshot eyes. “How long was he in there? He wasn’t holding his breath, was he?”

“Don’t know. Couldn’t’ve been in there longer than eight seconds,” Keith said, shaking his head. “It couldn’t be. I swear, I got him out as fast as I could.”

“I believe you, Keith,” Shiro said, placing a placating hand on the shaking red paladin’s shoulder. “I believe you. Don’t worry.”

Keith nodded wearily. “Will he be alright?” he asked, clutching Lance’s body close.

Shiro didn’t answer right away. The black and white haired paladin tilted his head unsure and met Keith’s gaze grimly. Shiro didn’t know. Healing pod. Now.

Keith gulped and tightened his grip on Lance’s still swollen and barely conscious body, clinging to it like a comforting toy. He needed reassurance right now and he wasn’t getting it. This was not a good day. He dropped his gaze to the destroyed drone and nodded to it.

“Did you do that?” he asked.

Shiro frowned and glared at the heap of metal distrustfully. “Yeah,” he said. “It was in the lift when I got on. Attacked me the moment I opened the door.”

Keith flushed. “My fault,” he admitted awkwardly. “It followed me from the training arena and I locked it in there to get away and catch my breath.”

“Why would it follow you from the arena?” Shiro wondered in confusion.

“I don’t know. But something’s going on,” Keith said, his violet gaze boring into Shiro’s. “The training drones attacked me _after_ I ended the training program.”

Shiro frowned in confusion. “They’re not supposed to d-”

“I know. I commanded the program to end three different times, but they just kept coming,” Keith insisted forcefully.

“They?” Shiro demanded, narrowing his gaze.

Keith nodded. “I beat the second one,” he confirmed. “It was down on the airlock level before I got there.” He lowered his gaze to Lance. “I think it was what forced Lance into the airlock.”

Shiro stiffened, dark gray eyes widened in disbelief and Keith grimaced. Then his gaze hardened to a glare that burned with tightly controlled fury. “Explain.”

Keith straightened. “The Druid was in the training arena observatory when the two level three drones attacked me after I’d tried to end the program,” he said promptly. “Lance blasted one, but not the other. I got away but the surviving drone followed me until I locked it in the lift.” He glanced down at the ruined robot at his feet. “I guess another drone followed Lance after I’d left.”

The black paladin took a very deep breath, his shoulders rising and falling before he said anything. “We need to get to the bottom of whatever’s going on here,” he said.

Shiro’s gaze flickering to the doors when the lift dinged at their chosen level. When the doors opened, the two paladins walked out, veering left towards the healing pod chamber. Keith hefted Lance’s body to a more comfortable position, wincing when the Druid moaned softly.

Shiro moved faster than Keith, stepping up to the chamber door and pausing. When Keith got close enough, he noticed what had caught Shiro’s attention. The chamber doors were sparking and stuttered between open and closed. They both looked at each other before Shiro activated his weaponized hand and entered first, Keith right behind him.

The chamber was clear as far as they could see, but neither Shiro nor Ketih were taking any chances. Shiro tapped the activation button on the keypad and one of the inactive pods rose from its designated storage slot under the floor. Except it wasn’t inactive.

“Coran?” Shiro gasped.

“What’s Coran doing in a healing pod?” Keith asked. Then he noticed the advisor’s facial expression, frozen during the moment of cryo-activation. “Or who put him there?”

Shiro made a sound of confirmation and deactivated the healing pod. Immediately, the pod hissed as the protective seal slid aside so a trembling and half frozen Coran could stumble out. The advisor was shivering and rubbing his arms to encourage blood flow and warmth to return to his limbs.

“Th-th-thank-k-k you,” Coran gasped, shaking so hard his words stuttered.

“Not a problem,” Shiro said, deactivating his weaponized hand and catching the quivering Altean. “Keith, put Lance in the pod. Coran, what happened? Are you alright?”

But Coran wasn’t paying attention to Shiro. His purple eyes were locked on the Druid in Keith’s arms. “By the Lions,” Coran murmured. “What happened to him?”

“Homicidal drones, active airlocks, and vacuum exposure,” Keith said in a curt voice as he gently eased Lance out his arms and into the healing pod.

“What?” Coran gasped, stepping away from Shiro and back to the pod. “But he was just here. What happened to the drone?”

“He was here?” Shiro said as Keith initiated the cryo-healing process. “What was he doing here?”

“He was being chased by a drone,” the advisor said, staring at the Druid’s unnaturally still form as he spoke. “He pushed me into the pod so the drone wouldn’t attack me.” He jolted suddenly, whipping his gaze to the paladins. “Sendak! Lance said Sendak was behind this.”

Shiro paled. “What? I was just at Sendak’s prison pod. There wasn’t anything going on there.”

“And how would the Druid know that Sendak was behind this?” Keith demanded, glancing at Lance suspiciously.

“It’s the memory core,” Coran said, his eyes gleaming fiercely. “We have to disconnect it. Lance said the Galra were trained to override the memory core’s security systems and invade other systems in the process. We have to go now!”

“But what about Hunk and Pidge?” Keith yelled after Coran who was already running to the exit.

“Go check on them, Keith,” Shiro commanded, keeping pace with Coran. “Then join us when you find them.”

Alone in the healing chamber, Keith frowned. This was shaping up to be an terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. And it was only -he pulled out his ticker from his back pocket and grimaced- ten o’tick in the morning. Sort of. Kind of. Damn, he hated space time.

With one last look at Lance in the healing pod, Keith left to hunt for Hunk and Pidge. Hopefully, they decided to sleep in today.

Fat chance.


	18. Sendak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Keith sees the unexpected, talks to the unexpected, Pidge can hold her own against bullies, and Coran takes charge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** This turned out slightly different from what I wanted and I'm not sure how I feel about it, but hey... I'll run with it. Lance comes back next chapter with all his sassy Disney princessness. Promise.
> 
>  **EDIT 11/4/17:** I just finished editing this and I'm so upset! I had no idea I'd made so many mistakes. I've fixed all the errors I could find, but I'm so embarrassed. Sorry y'all.

Whatever Keith was expecting when he found Hunk and Pidge, it definitely wasn’t watching them fall from thin air. After checking the green and yellow paladins’ bedrooms to be sure they weren’t there, Keith had started for the kitchen. Then he remembered Pidge talking about doing some tests on the Galra crystal Sendak had plugged into the Castle of Lions when he invaded and doubled back to the lift with a huff of annoyance.

He really needed to have a talk with Allura and Coran about the importance of emergency exits because everyone relying on a single lift during situations like this was ludicrous. He was still grumbling when he stepped out into the hallway leading to the Voltron Lions’ hangers. The door to the Green Lion’s hanger slid open when he got close and-

Hunk, Pidge, the Galra crystal, and lots of wires and was that Pidge’s computer? fell from thin air. They crashed to the ground with enough force to make Keith wince. He looked up at the hanger ceiling for anything that could possibly explain why -not to mention _how_ \- Pidge and Hunk had gotten up there in the first place. Nothing.

Then he remembered the drones acting up and Lance getting almost shot out into space and groaned.

“Let me guess,” he said, striding into the hanger. “The artificial gravity just randomly shut off without warning.”

“No. What was your first clue, genius?” Pidge groused, pushing herself up to her feet and Hunk was still on his back groaning in pain.

“Not the worst I’ve seen yet, to be honest,” Keith said, moving to help Hunk up.

He almost fell forward when Hunk pulled harder on his hand than he expected. Flashing an apologetic look at Keith, Hunk stood and shook himself. He was rubbing his shoulder and Keith would not be surprised to see a huge bruise there shortly.

“I’m not sure I want to know what you’re talking about,” the yellow paladin said, his gentle brown eyes glittering with the faintest hint of tears.

“I do,” Pidge said, brushing herself off. Then she noticed her trashed self-built computer and gave a heart wrenching cry that Keith swore was more banshee than human. “My precious!” She fell to her knees, fingering the shattered pieces of technology with legitimate crocodile tears tumbling down her face. “We had so many adventures together,” she wailed, hugging the demolished device to her chest. “Don’t leave me.”

Keith would never understand Pidge and her very strange technophilia. He just needed to stop trying and just accept it. He still blinked in complete bewilderment before shaking his head and turning to the more sane member of their team in the room.

“The Castle’s gone haywire,” he said without preamble. “Lance seems to think Sendak’s broken out of his memory core and taking over the Castle’s systems.”

“What?” Hunk cried, reeling back. “Oh god no. We literally just got rid of that guy. For the second time too. Geez. The guy is literally a cockroach.”

No argument here.

“How did he do that?” Pidge demanded and suddenly she was _right there_ all up Keith’s face. How the fuck did she get there so fast?

Keith placed a hand on the green paladin’s shoulder and pushed her back so he had his personal bubble back before talking. “Apparently the Galra figured out memory cores have weaknesses that they can exploit,” he said.

“Like breaches in a firewall,” Pidge muttered, her eyes flicking back and forth thoughtfully as her brilliant mind raced to understand and comprehend Keith’s explanation. “If we think of the Castle of Lions as a computer then Sendak’s memory core would be the rough equivalent of an external hard drive or…” She paused and frowned. “No, not giving him that kind of recognition. Sendak’s a flash drive with only 3 gigs of memory. Bastard.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Keith said, staring at his youngest friend in utter confusion.

“What Pidge is trying to say is that Sendak’s memory core is acting as the medium to inject a virus into the computer,” Hunk said, picking up where the green paladin left off. “The virus being Sendak’s consciousness.” He stilled, eye bugging in realization. “Oh no. We’re screwed.”

Pidge shook her head firmly. “The hell we are,” she said, pounding her fist in her open palm. “He ruined by precious computer. I’m going to mess him up.”

His friends were so freaking weird. Keith liked them.

“Speaking of,” Pidge said, looking around curiously. “You said Lance told you all this?”

“Well, actually Coran did after we got him out of one of the healing pods,” Keith said, turning to leave the hanger with the green and yellow paladins on his heels.

“Why was Coran in a healing pod?” Hunk gasped, tapping Keith’s shoulder urgently. “Is he okay? Is he hurt or anything?”

“Not that I noticed,” Keith said, stepping into the lift. Well, what do you know? The dang infernal device was here. Stupid lifts.

“Then why was he in a pod?” Hunk pressed, frowning in confusion as the three of them stepped into the lift. “And why are we going down exactly?”

“We’re going to join Shiro and Coran at the prison pod level,” Keith said.

“You still haven’t said what Coran was doing in a healing pod if he wasn’t hurt,” Pidge said, planting her fists on her hips and glaring at the red paladin. She adjusted her glasses so they caught the bright lights of the lift. “Suspicious.”

Keith rolled his eyes. “He was in there because Lance put him there,” he said.

Hunk and Pidge glanced at each other before turning back to Keith. Why were they looking at him like that? Was it something he said?

“And why did Lance put Coran in the healing pod?” Pidge drawled, an eyebrow lifting to her hairline.

Keith blinked. “Um, because the insane homicidal robot couldn’t get to him if he was in the pod.”

“The insane homicidal _what now?”_ Pidge said.

The deadpan glare she was giving him was seriously starting to rub Keith the wrong way. “Robot,” he said. “Sendak must have taken over the programming for the training arena. The drones I was training against suddenly ignored protocol and kept attacking even after I attempted to end the program. They chased me all the way down to the airlock level.”

“They _what?”_ Hunk gasped.

“I thought they couldn’t leave the training arena,” Pidge said, her bright eyes wide.

“Neither did I,” Keith said. “Shiro took care of one while I got rid of the others and got Lance out of the airlock.”

The lift dinged and Keith strode out, picking up his pace when he saw Shiro and Coran ahead.

“What was Lance doing in an airlock?” Pidge said.

“He got caught in it when it decompressed and almo-”

Pidge skidded to a halt and stared at Keith and Shiro and Coran in horrified disbelief. “Holy shit!”

“It’s fine. I put him in a healing pod,” Keith said calmly, looking to Shiro.

“It is _not fine,_ Keith!” Hunk shouted. “Being decompressed in an airlock is _not okay!_ It is _never_ okay!”

“As much as I agree with you, Hunk,” Shiro said, “that doesn’t matter right now. Keith got Lance back inside before anything too serious happened. He’s in the healing pod recovering.”

“Oh my god, Lance!” Hunk moaned, running his hands through his brown-black hair and scratching furiously as he worried. “Wait, weren’t Lance and Sendak on the same side?” he said, his eyes shifting from Pidge, to Keith, to Shiro, then to Coran. “Why would Sendak use the Castle to kick Lance out into an airlock?”

“Probably because he switched sides,” Coran said from his place on the floor. He was kneeling beside Sendak’s prison pod trying to unhook the wires connecting the prison pod to the memory core and not having much luck. “Quiznak,” he muttered, jerking his hands back.

“Coran, you okay?” Pidge asked, dropping to her knees next to the Altean.

“Just a shock, is all,” he replied, never taking his eyes off the wires. “Whatever Sendak’s done to the memory core, it’s causing a surge of electricity through the wires whenever I get close to detaching them.

“Let me give it a try,” Pidge said. She reached for the nearest wire and began fiddling with it. However, the moment she got close to unwinding the tangle, she gave a choked cry and yanked her hands back, rubbing them comfortingly. “Fuck! Damn it, that hurt,” she hissed between gritted teeth.

“Hurry up!” Keith said, from behind them.

_“It’s no use.”_

No one moved.

“Um… guys?” Hunk stage whispered. “Please tell me one of you is a ventriloquist because otherwise I just heard Sendak talk.”

_Laughter. Eerie, familiar, disturbing._

“Oh god,” Shiro murmured, staring straight at Sendak’s deceptively calm form inside the prison pod.

 _“So good of you to come visit me, Champion,”_ Sendak’s voice said, dripping with dark pleasure. _“Pity it has to be under these circumstances.”_

Pidge leaned close to Coran’s side, unable to tear her fearful light brown eyes from the still body in the pod. “He must have gotten into the Castle’s speaker systems,” she murmured.

 _“How right you are, green paladin,”_ Sendak’s voice said, sounding pleased. _“I believe I have you to thank for Subcommander Haxus’ death and my Druid’s betrayal. For a mere child, you certainly have an impressive list of offenses against the Empire.”_

“I’m not a child!” Pidge shouted indignantly, her face blazing red in anger. “And I killed Haxus while he was awake and kicking. You’re locked in that stupid cryopod. Not much of a contest, if you ask me.”

 _“I didn’t,”_ Sendak said simply. _“Although, for all your talk, you don’t seem to have made much headway.”_

“What do you want, Sendak?” Shiro demanded, stepping up to rest his Druidic hand on Pidge’s shoulder and glare directly at Sendak’s closed eyes. “You got us here. We’re listening. So talk.”

 _“Ah yes, the Champion,”_ the Galra commander purred. Shiro’s dark gray gaze hardened at the hated name. _“I missed your last battle in the arena. I bet several hundred GAC on you. Won it all.”_

“Stop rambling and talk,” Shiro snapped.

Keith furrowed his brows in concern as he studied his leader’s back closely. The black paladin stood stiff and rigid, unyielding before the unresponsive Galra body. But Keith knew Shiro well. He could see the subtle tightening of Shiro’s jaw and the dangerous gleam in those gray eyes.

“Shiro,” he said softly, moving to stand at Shiro’s side and resting a hand on the black paladin’s back between the shoulder blades.

It took a moment for Shiro to relax, releasing a pent up breath and forcing the tension from his body. “What do you want?” he said again, his anger successfully held at bay.

_“You have something I want.”_

“And that would be?” Keith asked.

 _“Your lives,”_ Sendak answered. _“And the Lions of Voltron, of course.”_

“Yeah, yeah,” Pidge grumbled. “Typical bad guy spiel. I vant to suck your vlood and kill you dead,” she said in a ridiculously bad Dracula accent. “And whatever else. Yeah, yeah, we get the picture. You’re not getting either our lives or the Lions.” She stood and tucked her hands in her pockets.

_“Is that so?”_

“Hell yeah, it is,” Pidge said, grinning with all the confidence Keith knew she didn’t really feel. “We still own your ass.”

Behind Keith, Hunk snorted. “Or,” the yellow paladin said carefully, “you could say we _froze_ his ass.”

“Ha! Good one, Hunk,” the green paladin crowed.

She flashed her science bro a proud thumbs up. Hunk returned the gesture with a hesitant smile and Keith couldn’t fight the beginnings of a smirk. Pidge was right. Sendak may be preventing them from disconnecting the memory core from the prison pod, but the Galra was still outnumbered five to one.

_“You are all pathetic.”_

“Big words from a frozen asshole,” Pidge continued, sticking her tongue out at the pod.

Keith bit back a snicker, glancing up at Shiro who was staring at Pidge like he’d never seen her before. It was actually amusing as hell and this time Keith did snort. Then Shiro was staring at him like he couldn’t decide whether to be disturbed or laugh and Keith snorted again.

 _“And yet my words stand,”_ Sendak said easily. _“You’re all fools distracted by what’s around you and missing what’s in front of you.”_

“And what, pray tell, are we missing exactly?” Coran asked, standing and crossing his arms.

 _“How does the saying go?”_ the Galra commander said, his voice calm and suspiciously… satisfied? _“Surrounded by battlecruisers, you miss the Blade in front of you.”_

“What the hell does that mean?” Keith growled in frustration.

_“I wonder.”_

A klaxon suddenly blared throughout the Castle and Keith jumped with an embarrassingly girly shriek. The noise made his ears ring. “What the hell is that?” he shouted over the ruckus.

A screen on the wall flickered to life, drawing the group’s attention. A depiction of the Castle of Lions was flashed red as it moved slowly towards what Keith recognized with stomach dropping fear was a wormhole.

“No. That can’t be,” Coran said, rushing to the monitor and tapping a few quick commands into it. A window filled with Altean script flashed in front of the moving images and the advisor paled. “The Castle hasn’t been prepped for a wormhole jump. How could… The princess!”

“What? What about her?” Shiro said, focusing on the advisor. “Where’s Allura?”

“She should be in her bed resting,” Coran said. “She’s still recovering from the Balmeran rejuvenation ceremony. She shouldn’t be…”

 _“As I said,”_ Sendak’s voice said, smooth as silk and setting Keith’s nerves alight with hatred and fear. _“You spent so much time focusing on the battlecruisers, you missed the Blade in front of you. You murdered those under my command and convinced a Druid to betray the Empire. So I’ll take your lives and Lions as payment.”_ Laughter that make Keith want to throw up. _“Betrayal by a trusted comrade is such sweet revenge.”_

“Fuck this shit,” Keith snarled.

When the electric start on his hovercycle didn’t work for whatever reason, a good ole kickstart usually did the trick. Mechanical methods tended to own the fancy schmancy electrical methods on a reliable basis. So if unplugging the memory core wasn’t shutting Sendak up and cutting off his poisonous influence, then a more direct method was needed.

Without waiting for a command or asking permission, Keith drew his bayard, activated it, and slashed down at the memory core. It shattered sending the strands of pulsing violet scattering into the air where they vaporized.

That infernal laughter again!

_“Is that all you’ve got, little paladin?”_

“No.” Keith hefted his bayard and thrust it straight through the prison pod’s transparent seal and into the Galra’s frozen chest.

“Keith!”

He ripped his bayard back out only to blink when the entire pod vanished, sliding down into the floor. Caught off guard, Keith stumbled back, blinking at the gaping hole before a previously unseen door slid shut.

“Where’d he go?” he demanded, turning to Shiro who stood next to him.

The black paladin was pale and breathing hard, his hand braced on a panel next to where Sendak’s prison pod had stood only a second ago. Under Shiro’s hand was a flashed red button that looked suspiciously like…

Violet eyes widened and Keith stepped up to the empty pod casing to stare at the sealed door in the floor. “An airlock,” he murmured. “You ejected him.”

“Good.”

Startled, both Keith and Shiro straightened and looked at Coran. The Altean advisor’s gaze was hard and unforgiving.

“I would have asked you to do that if you hadn’t done it already,” Coran continued. “With Sendak gone,” he nodded to Shiro, “and the memory core destroyed,” he nodded to Keith, “the source of the virus is gone too. Now we just have to deal with everything else.”

“But,” Hunk began, “what about-”

“Hunk?” Coran said in a commanding voice, “I want you and Keith to go check on Lance. Make sure he’s still alive in the pod. If he’s recovered enough to be roused, then wake him and bring him to the bridge. He may have some ideas for how to handle a situation like this. The rest of you, we’re going straight to the bridge. We have to stop the princess.”

“Yes sir,” Shiro said.

“How would Lance be able to help?” Keith asked as the group moved together towards the lift.

“If he knows about the vulnerabilities in the memory cores, then he may know a way to stop the virus’s effects,” the advisor said, stepping into the lift. “Besides, we don’t know how far reaching Sendak’s influence is. I’d rather have Lance with us under watch than alone in a pod that’s still connected to the Castle.”

“Good point,” Hunk said, nodding. “But what if Lance isn’t well enough to be roused.”

Coran’s lips pressed in a thin line. “Wake him anyway,” he said grimly. “We should have enough medical skills between the lot of us to handle any serious issues if they come up. I don’t want anyone to use any involved Castle systems until we’re absolutely sure this mess has been thoroughly dealt with.”

“Yes sir,” Hunk said.

The lift dinged and Hunk and Keith stepped out onto the healing pod level. Lift. Right! Before the lift doors could close, Keith thrust his bayard between the doors, preventing them from closing.

“Keith what-”

“Hold that thought, Shiro,” Keith said, looking directly at the Altean. “Coran, please tell me there are other ways to get around in this ship.”

Coran blinked. “Other ways?”

“Other than the lift,” Keith clarified. “Emergency stairways, tunnels, anything.”

The advisor blinked. “Oh. Well, there are a few stairs, but it would be easier to show them to you later.”

Keith groaned and yanked his bayard out from between the doors with a huff of frustration.

“What was that for?” Hunk asked as they ran to the healing pod chamber.

“Nothing,” Keith groaned. “I just fucking hate Mondays.”

The yellow paladin blinked. “Is today a Monday?”

“It feels like a Monday,” Keith grumbled. “Therefore, it _is_ a Monday.”

Hunk chuckled, running across the pod room to the old active pod. “Fair.”


	19. Demonic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lance wakes up, faces a great fear, and realizes sometimes, trust can be granted. For some thing. For now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** Sorry I didn't update yesterday. I literally drifted off while working on this chapter and decided to call it a night. On the bright side, Fall Back gave me an extra hour of sleep but on the downside, I'm now confused??? What time is it? Why's it dark? Why's it light? What? I don't even know anymore.

He was really getting sick and tired of waking up in small, enclosed spaces. Particularly _cold_ , small, enclosed spaces. Like healing pods.

Pods.

Prison pods.

_Sendak!_

Consciousness crashed back into him and he gasped for air, only to blow it all out as quickly as he could. Holding breath, bad. The last thing he needed was ruptured lungs from an explosive decompress-

Why was he so weak? He could barely move. Why were there arms around him? Were those arms? Please be arms.

The face of a demon flashed to the forefront of his mind and suddenly Lance did NoT WaNt ArMs ArOuNd HiM!!

Drawing on his quintessence, Lance put both of his hands on the person holding him and _pushed_. He heard the person -please don’t be the Demon- fly away from the force of the quintessence backed push with a hoarse cry. Lance staggered back, gripping what were probably the sides of an airlock -pod?- still refusing to breathe and getting dizzier the longer he did so. Until he no longer had any choice but to gasp for air and-

He breathed. He breathed? What? But the airlock…

Pod.

Carefully, he opened his eyes, wincing and squeezing his eyes shut against the bright lights. Something soft and furry curled against the side of his neck and he absently reached up to pet it. A faint squeak and a sense of _:encouragement:_ by his ears made him try opening his eyes again. It was still bright but it was a bit more tolerable now that he was more awake.

He definitely wasn’t in an airlock anymore which was fabulous. Thank you. How was he not in an airlock anymore? Last he remembered, everything had fogged up, he’d been battered by blasting wind, and couldn’t _breathe-_

He breathed in reflexively, almost to make sure he still could, before allowing his body to relax one muscle at a time. His shoulders twitched and everything ached and why was Hunk staring at him like he was a Galra? Come to think of it, why was Hunk here at all? And was that Keith on the floor? What was he doing on the floor? He looked like a limp sea jelly all sprawled out like that.

“Wha…” Catch his breath. “What are you doing on the floor?” he gasped.

Keith sat up and stared right at Lance with the most offended look Lance had ever seen on the red paladin.

“What do you mean what am I doing here?” Keith whined. “You _threw_ me here.”

“What?” Lance said, blinking and trying to think clearly. “I didn’t-” Oh. “You were the one ho-” His cheeks flushed and he cleared his throat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Scratch what he’d thought before. _This_ was the most offended look Lance had ever seen on Keith’s face. “You do _too_ know what I’m talking about!” he shouted, pushing himself to his feet. Violet eyes flashed with indignation. “I got you out of the airlock and carried you up here to the healing pod and then caught you when you fell out.”

Oh. No. _:Tease:_ Chulatt made a squeaky sound and poked Lance’s ear with a cheeky grin and his face was burning because he was _hot_ thank you. No other reason. None.

“No. Don’t remember,” he said, probably too quickly to be believable but it was better to say that than something else.

The red paladin was shaking with pent up fury, his fists clenched by his sides, as he glared angrily at Lance. “You are unbelievable!” he snapped.

Damn. Keith was cute when he was angry. Wait. Hold on. “You mean _you_ were the one to get me out of the airlock?” he cried, stunned. Lance really did not remember that. “How did you get past the Demon?”

Keith froze, his eyebrows drawn low in confusion. “Demon?” he repeated. “What demon?”

“Um,” Hunk said, raising his hand hesitantly. “Don’t mean to interrupt, but we kind of need your help.”

“With what?” Lance asked, turning his blue gaze to the yellow paladin as he pushed himself away from the cool support of the healing pod.

“Sendak’s taken over the Castle like this weird consciousness-virus thing and we need to-”

Lance reeled back, eyes wide with horror. “Still?” he gasped. “I thought-” He stiffened and looked around the room at the other pods. They were all inactive. “W-where’s Coran?”

“On the bridge with Shiro and Pidge,” Keith said in a curt voice. “We’re about to-”

Reality slipped and they were all flung to the violently floor as the entire Castle shook. Lance hit the floor with a cry of pain. His entire body still felt like pins and needles were stabbing him relentlessly under every skin cell he had. It was agony and the vibrations weren’t helping.

“What the hell is going on?” Keith shouted over the Castle all but vibrating them to bits.

“I think the princess made the wormhole jump,” Hunk shouted back, struggling to stay on his hands and knees and not smack his face n the floor.

Lance had no grace. He rolled onto his back and whimpered. This was absolutely miserable. He just wanted to curl up in his own private hidey hole in the vents and sleep until everything was sane again. Before his failed Trial protecting Sendak’s battlecruiser, before the Balmera, before Voltron, before _all_ of this. He felt like crying.

And he was still so confused. He’d been so sure Sendak had been the one controlling everything. But then the Demon appeared and… He had no idea about anything anymore.

“Fuck this shit,” Keith grumbled, staggering to his feet.

Lance vaguely saw the red paladin stumble towards him before Keith grabbed his hand and yanked him up. The skin Keith touched stung and the shaking was doing murder to his balance but at least he was conscious. However much he wished he wasn’t. Then Hunk was right there beside him and he leaned on the yellow paladin for support.

“We have to get to the bridge,” Keith shouted, grabbing Lance by the wrist and yanking him across the room to the door.

Ow. Ow. Ow! “That hurts,” he whined, trying to pull the red paladin’s fingers off him and keep pace at the same time.

“Sorry, but we really don’t have the time,” Keith snapped, not even bothering to glance over his shoulder.

Rude.

“What hurts?” Hunk asked as he ran by Lance’s side.

“Everything,” Lance whimpered, clutching at Chulatt still on his shoulder. “Everything hurts. Why did you wake me?”

The yellow paladin at least looked somewhat remorseful. “We need your help figuring out how to stop the-”

“Yes, yes, you said that already,” Lance grumbled. “Is that all? Couldn’t Coran help you with that? He knows this stupid Castle better than I do.”

Hunk shrugged. “Well, yeah, but you know more about memory cores,” he said.

“How do we stop Sendak?” Keith demanded.

They reached the lift and Lance used the break to catch his breath and soothe his tingling skin and sore muscles. His eyes hurt too. They felt dry and itchy. Everything hurt.

A familiar, rumbling purr like a glacier moving over rock, washed through his mind. Frigid ice flowed through his veins, freezing his aches and pains and easing his dizziness with a welcome boost of quintessence. Blue was here. She had been so worried about him. She had almost lost him and that was unacceptable. Unforgivable. He was _hers!_ How _dare_ another try to steal him from her.

For some reason, despite the ice encasing his sense of self, Blue’s presence and fierce protectiveness warmed his heart. It was like a blazing bonfire of frost burn in the center of a world of numbing cold. It reminded him that she loved him and she would have her vicious revenge if anything ever happened to him.

“Lance!”

“Huh?” he replied intelligently, staring at Keith in bewilderment. “What?”

The red paladin hissed. “I said how do we stop Sendak?” he growled.

“Destroy the memory core,” Lance answered promptly.

“Been there, done that, didn’t work,” Keith snapped, shaking his head and staring hard at Lance as if he had all the answers. Spoilers: he didn’t. “Can you think of anything else? Anything?”

Lance blinked slowly and shook his head. “No,” he whispered. “That should solve the problem.”

“Keith destroyed the memory core already,” Hunk said, drawing Lance’s confused blue gaze. “He…” Hunk scratched his head with a sheepish smile. “Kinda went overboard too.”

Did he really want to know? “Uh… what do you mean by ‘overboard’?” Lance asked hesitantly.

“I stabbed him and Shiro ejected him out into space,” Keith said in clipped tones.

Lance slowly shook his head. “How…? Then that should be it,” he said. “With Sendak and the memory core gone, Sendak’s influence should be gone.”

“Yeah, well, it isn’t,” Keith said, letting go of Lance and turning to face the lift doors as they opened.

Lance flushed. “Well excuse me. I’m not a Master Druid, you know. I only know what I was training to encounter and, quite frankly, none of this wake angel tales I’ve experienced since we first discovered the Yellow Lion was anywhere _near_ what I was trained to handle. Are you even listening to me?”

Neither of them were looking at him. They were ignoring him!

“Hey!” he shouted, stomping his foot and gritting his teeth against the pain that blazed through him. “Look at me when I’m talking to you.” Still ignoring him. “You… You…”

Fuming, Lance squeezed his eyes shut and tried to stop his shaking. Frell it all, he felt so useless. Why ask him questions and then ignore his answers? Idiots. Everyone on this whole, frell-begotten ship were utter imbeciles and why was Chulatt yanking his ear-

Oh.

Okay. Ignoring forgiven. Giant, flaming star too close for comfort did tend to take priority.

“Oh quiznak,” he murmured, eyes wide and terrified.

Was this a magnification of a nearby star? Red-yellow light from the enormous star looming at the center of the bridge’s encircling view screens filled the entire room with an intense luminescence that bordered on incandescent. Lance was forced to squint in order to keep from getting a headache from the overwhelming brilliance. Thankfully, since these were view screens and not actual windows, they were protected from the deadly radiation. Hopefully.

Oh ‘Verse, please protect them. He didn’t want to die.

Wait a tick. Were they moving _towards_  the star? Oh ‘Verse. That _was_ a magnification… right?

“Princess!”

Startled, Lance whipped his gaze to the people standing on the bridge. Shiro and Pidge were crouched in defensive positions while Coran looked a tick away from fainting. The witch stood tall and smiling on the platform at the center of the bridge flying the Castleship straight for the blazing sun.

It wasn’t a magnification.

Lance felt his heart drop. Betrayed. They were betrayed.

The witch shifted on the pedestal, lifting her head to gazing lovingly at something next to her. Lance squinted against the light of the star and could barely make out an Altenoid figure in white and blue flickering next to the witch. The figure tilted its head to meet the witch’s as she spoke and… and…

It was the Demon.

Fear burned his senses, thundering in his ears and drowning out the other sounds around him. His chest rose and fell. He was breathing, but he couldn’t seem to get enough air. Something soft batted at his cheek accompanied by a distant, high-pitched noise that sounded like it was filtering to him through a tunnel. He barely noticed when something firm and strong gripped his shoulder and shook him.

They weren’t important. They weren’t what claimed his full attention. What _demanded_ his full attention. They weren’t the threat. That… That _thing_ …

Vaguely, he could feel his mouth moving. He must be talking, but he had no frelling idea what he was saying or if he was making any sense.

Then something soft touched his eye scale.

_:Worry. Concern. Help. Save. Home. Longing. Homesick. Wrong. Stop.:_

Instinctively, Lance flinched away from the tumultuous deluge of thoughts and emotions that weren’t his. Unfortunately, the moment he broke contact, he was disoriented by all of his other senses suddenly dialing up to full power.

“Lance!”

Keith.

Lance’s vision was suddenly filled with violet and he blinked, swallowing over his dry throat. “Keith?” he murmured.

Keith let out a sigh of relief and tightened his grip on Lance’s shoulders. “Lance, are you okay?” he said, his tone urgent but calm despite the insanity surrounded them. “What demon are you talking about? Who threw you into the airlock?”

With a nervous gulp, Lance pointed at the _thing_ standing next to the witch. “Him,” he breathed, lifting his gaze back to flickering beside the witch. “T-The Demon of Altea.”

For a tick, Keith furrowed his brow in confusion. Then the red paladin’s face steeled and he stood, spinning to face the Demon and the witch. Forcing himself to fight against the abyss of panic, Lance got to his feet as well.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Keith was muttering. “He’s dead! That’s just a hologram.”

“This has to be Sendak’s influence. He must have corrupted King Alfor’s artificial intelligence as well,” Coran said.

“Artificial… intelligence?” Lance murmured, his mind trying to grasp what was going on. Both Keith and Hunk had said the Galra commander had been dealt with. So how…? Why?

“But I thought Alfor was dead,” Pidge cried. “We got rid of Sendak. So why’s some dead guy taking control of the Castle?”

Exactly! It made no sense.

The Altean advisor shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t know!”

There was no explanation for this. It just didn’t make sense! They’d removed the source of the problem. Once the memory core and person hooked up to it were removed from the picture, control of the ship should have returned to the crew.

“The ‘how’ isn’t important right now,” Shiro said, his voice cutting through the rising tension in the room. “Coran, keep trying to snap Allura out of it. We’ll get to our Lions and try to slow the ship down.”

So then why? Lance clapped his hands over his ears, whimpering as the constant yelling and squealing from Chulatt made his ears ring. Why was this still happening. The Demon was dead! Sendak was dead and gone with his memory core. There was no other explanation

“Right,” Pidge said.

“I sure hope the Lions can protect us from the radiation,” Hunk moaned as he joined Pidge. “Keith, come on.”

Unless… Oh quiznak.

Lance’s face fell slack in stunned realization. “The drone,” he murmured. “The Demon… The drone was acting under Sendak. Not the Demon. The Demon is dead.”

“Lance,” Shiro called. “Snap out of it. We need to get to our Lions!”

“The Demon is dead,” Lance repeated. “He’s _dead_. He shouldn’t be able to take a form like that. The only common way to deal with the dead is…”

Whipping his head up, Lance stared right at the flickering form -hologram, he realized now, not ghost- and reached for his quintessence. The Blue Lion added her quintessence to his, the supercooled quintessence mixing and meshing with his own watery river with an almighty roar.

_:Rage. Fear. Hatred. Hurt. Revenge. He dares!:_

Not caring about the consequences of his actions, Lance adjusted his stance, raised both ice veined arms, and breathed out. Twin bolts of shining frost lightning crackled from his palms, burning jagged streaks of blue-white across the particle barrier separating him from the _thing_ that should not exist. The _thing_ that dared harm the Blue Lion’s paladin, _her_ paladin, would pay.

He couldn’t hold this type of attack for long. No Druid could. It was meant to be used in spurts, not as a continued, sustained attack. But if he poured enough of his quintessence into it, then maybe… maybe he could at least break through the barrier.

A crack, gleaming white amidst the sea of red-yellow, fractured the barrier, spreading from the point of impact. _:Smug pride.:_ Their princess was screaming something that sounded both angry and fearful. They could almost make out the whites of her eyes.

They?

Blue purred, reinforcing his quintessence cold lightning, frosting every surface a stray bolt struck.

Oh.

She would not stand by and lose her paladin again. _Never_ again. He was _hers_ and she did not play fair.

Well, well. With a grin that may or may not have been his own, Lance sank into the frigid glacier that was Blue and together they fought. They could feel Red nearby, smoldering just beyond their reach. Yellow stood strong and solid behind them next to the twining vines of Green and the breeze that was Black. Their quintessence was not as strong as it had been as Voltron, but they could feel it.

They could also feel the barrier give under their combined power like the fragile shell of an egg. Then, all at once, it shattered and Blue retreated returning Lance to his proper place at the forefront of his mind. His fingers still tingled with the pinpricks of frostbite but the adrenaline of a battle won still channeling through him kept him steady on his feet. He would definitely be feeling the quintessence drain when the adrenaline wore off, though.

“Woah,” someone murmured behind him. Hunk.

A soft squeak and accompanying _:awe:_ brushed his mind. Not his or Blue’s. Strange.

“Holy mother of fuck.” Pidge.

“Princess!” Shiro as he ran past him to help the unsettled witch off of the floor where she’d collapsed sometime during Lance’s attack.

He wobbled. Okay. Better take care of this now before his legs gave way.

“Coran,” he said.

“Y-yes?”

Fear? Why? Not important.

“The Demon of Altea.” Wobble. Frell. Just a few more ticks. “He’s dead, correct?”

“Yes.”

Orange stepped into his vision and Lance forced his gaze up to wide, light purple, blinking away another bought of vertigo. “Did you save the Demon’s memories in a memory core?” he said.

The orange mustache ruffled as the advisor frowned. Then paled. “By the Lions,” he whispered.

“What?” Shiro again and frell it all his vision was blurring.

“Destroy the memory core,” Lance bit out. He would. Not. Faint. But quiznak if he wouldn’t mind going to sleep.

“But father-”

No patience. “Unless you want that _Demon_ to try something else to kill us all, then get rid of it,” he snapped.

Blue purred in his mind, and he allowed a cool stream of water to flow into his sense of self, calming him and soothing his frayed nerves. He felt more awake now, but drained. This was just a very bad day.

“Alright.” Opening his eyes, he was met by the witch’s tearful but strong turquoise gaze. Her beautiful face was set in stern determination. “I’ll do it,” she said. Without breaking eye contact with him, the witch said in a voice that would accept no arguments, “Coran, stay here with Lance and try to regain what control you can. The rest of, go to your Lions and slow this ship down. When I’m done, I’ll open a wormhole and get us out of there.”

Tears fell, but turquoise eyes never wavered. She meant it. She really meant it. She may not trust him completely. He didn’t trust her completely. But she trusted him this far. Blue nuzzled him and he nodded.

He trusted her.

In this, at least.


	20. Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Keith doesn't know what to think while Coran gets some help saving the Castle and remembers that they still have hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **EDIT 11/7/17:** I reread this today to edit it and I am _so_ sorry y’all! So many errors! How did I possibly miss all these? *hides* If y’all catch some that I missed, let me know so I can correct them. I think I got them all, though.

Why wasn’t Lance moving? Why was he still standing there?

Keith reached out to pull Lance towards the lift when he finally got a good look at the Druid’s face. Lance’s eyes were a cold and unforgiving, frozen blue on a sandy shore. It wasn’t an expression Keith expected to see and it took him aback. The only time he’d seen something even close to this was when he’d held the Druid against the wall in the Balmeran mine shaft.

Fury and hatred and unforgiving.

What?

“Lance?” he whispered, staring at the Druid. Fear. Cold.

Cold?

It felt like he’d opened a door to a snowstorm. The temperature of the air around the Druid dropped making Keith shiver. He gasped and was stunned to see a puff of fog where his breath met the air. The hairs on his arms and neck raised as goosebumps covered every inch of exposed skin.

“What the hell?” he murmured, unable to look away from the Druid’s furious expression. That… “What the hell are you?”

The Druid didn’t respond. Instead, he shifted, rooting his body in a sturdy stance, raised his hands, and- _What the?!_ Keith stumbled back as fast as his feet could carry him. Honest to god blue-tinged white bolts of lightning burst from the Druid’s hands and struck the particle barrier keeping the princess and Alfor locked on the main pedestal.

 _Lightning bolts?!_ The Druid could shoot _lightning bolts_ from his _hands?!_ Well, Keith had seen it happen once before, but… not like this… Last time, it had been one bolt and, yeah, it left a smoking hole in the Blue Lion’s hanger, but it had only been one bolt. And it hadn’t been anywhere near this bright or last this long.

This… What the actual fuck?

Cold. So fucking _cold!_

Then the Red Lion roared and an inferno of heat and flame incinerated the ever-growing frost creeping up his arms, swirling on his clothes, and settling in his heart. For a brief moment, he felt like he might spontaneously combust from the sharp change in temperature, but all he did was gasp and stagger. Red pressed against his mind, anchoring him to the here and now with her heat and instinctual refusal to surrender to her pridemate.

The frost melted leaving his sleeves damp and his heart pumping normally once more. If pounding at the pace of a forced military march was considered normal, which it certainly was not. But at least now Keith could move without the stiffness of chill slowing his muscles and chapping the back of his throat raw.

With Red so close to his sense of self, Keith could finally look away from the glacial force of nature that was Lance. Lance and _Blue_ , he realized. There was no way the Druid could call up this much ice and frost and _lightning_ by himself.

Please tell him he couldn’t. That’d be just unreal.

But no, Keith knew it wasn’t. Red rumbled her agreement and Keith… Keith could _feel_ Blue. Or, not Blue exactly, but he could feel a -what was the word?- a tower of ice where Lance stood. Iceberg. Red nudged Keith with her burning quintessence and he saw through her eyes.

Lance, covered in frost, and the Blue Lion, standing proudly over her paladin. The Blue Lion was the glacier and Lance was an iceberg, _her_ iceberg. The tip of the Blue Lion’s nose was pressing against the center of the Druid’s back sending pulse after pulse of blue quintessence into him. They were doing this together.

Dumbstruck, Keith followed the arcing lightning to the particle barrier surrounding the pedestal. The Druid’s attack must have knocked some sense in the princess because Allura’s eyes were no longer clouded with confusion like a sleepwalker. She was screaming at her holographic father and pointing to both Lance and the dancing frost lightning and the still blazing star looming in all of the bridge’s view screens.

Keith couldn’t hear her words, but judging from Allura’s terrified expression, she’d finally come to her senses and realized the situation they were in. She turned away from the image of her father and placed both hands on the control columns on either side of the pedestal. Hope ignited in Keith’s heart. She was going to get them out of here. They would be safe. They would-

Electricity not belonging to the Druid arced from the control columns and Allura screamed, thrown back by the force of the shock. For a brief, terrifying moment, the princess hit the besieged particle barrier, arching her back with another scream. Then she fell _through_ the barrier and landed inelegantly on the floor in a heap of night clothes, hair, and sprawled limbs. Lance didn’t even seem to notice. Frost lightning continued to arc and dance against the sparking, _cracking_ particle barrier.

Because it _was_ cracking, Keith realized. A single, large crack streaked up the length of the barrier from the initial point of impact where the Druid’s lightning was focused. As Keith watched, the crack continued to grow, shining white against the pale pink barrier just like Lance’s shield had cracked under the Robeast’s attack.

Then it burst into pieces, disintegrating as it blew apart and just as abruptly as the Druid’s attack began, it stopped. Frost covered most of the bridge’s control surfaces, spreading out from Lance in deceptively delicate swirls. Tubes of ice that had encased the Druid’s frost lightning glimmered in the bloody light of the star they were _still moving towards._

Red eased back from her close proximity to his mind and Keith’s senses cooled from the feverish high they’d been in. Everything was eerily still and silent. Even the flickering form of Alfor seemed unwilling to break the silence.

“Woah,” Hunk breathed, his voice so soft Keith would have missed it had the silence not hung so heavily in the air.

A soft squeak drew Keith’s eyes to the small, blue furred mouse on the Druid’s shoulder. How had the thing not been frozen solid or blown away from the cold and frost lightning? Was it just Keith, or was the mouse’s fur a bit bluer than he remembered?

“Holy mother of fuck,” Pidge said in awe, and yeah. Yeah, Keith could agree with that one hundred percent.

But it was Shiro’s cry of “Princess!” that truly broke the heavy silence.

Keith barely moved when the black paladin ran past him, bumping his shoulder as he went. Shiro slipped his hands under the princess’s arms and helped her to her feet while tugging her away from the pedestal and the still stunned holographic Alfor.

“Coran.”

Everyone’s attention whipped to the Druid who… wobbled?

The Altean advisor stiffened but gave a terrified, “Y-yes?” in reply.

“The Demon of Altea,” Lance whispered. Why did he sound so hoarse? “He’s dead, correct?”

Um, Keith glanced up at the flickering image of Alfor on the pedestal. No? Maybe?

“Yes,” Coran replied, edging over so he stood in the Druid’s field of vision.

Lance lifted his gaze and Keith felt like he’d been punched in the gut. All of the emotion that had hardened those blue eyes to indestructible ice, had melted away leaving exhaustion, sorrow, and determination in its wake.

Lance shuddered and swallowed before speaking once more. “Did you save the Demon’s memories in a memory core?” he said.

Oh. Oh! Oh god! Keith’s gaze quickly returned to Alfor in terrible understanding. Apparently, Coran had come to the same awful conclusion as well. Coran had said it before, but it never occurred to Keith that… But it made so much sense! The Alfor in front of them wasn’t real. He was a memory, and memories were stored in _memory cores._

“By the Lions,” Coran whispered.

“What?” Shiro said but Keith’s attention was pulled back to the Druid who wobbled on his feet again.

“Destroy the memory core,” Lance said, his voice rough and dry. Damn. How much had that attack taken out of him?

“But,” Allura said, desperate hope still glittering in her inhuman eyes, “father-”

“Unless you want that _Demon_ to try something else to kill us all, then get rid of it,” Lance hissed, his gaze once again hard and unforgiving as an ancient glacier.

Lance stood taller now, but frost swirled out from his eyes and under his collar, leaving glistening feathery designs behind that melted fairly quickly. This was the Blue Lion’s influence, Keith realized with wide eyes.

The Blue Lion was fluid and adapted to each situation for whatever was needed at the time. Flowing steadily within her banks or flooding everything around her with devastating effects. She was loyal and trusting to those she deemed worthy to a fault, but felt the effects of betrayal all the deeper. She was the embodiment of the prehistoric ocean that brought life and death, the ice cap that refused to melt in summer’s heat, the ice flows that moved with the current, and the iceberg that sank the Titanic.

And Keith never understood that analogy better than at this moment. He didn’t know Lance the Druid. He didn’t really know Lance the blue paladin either. But he did _see_ Lance, and that counted for something. He saw Lance at his weakest after the explosive decompression. And now he saw Lance at his most powerful and he wasn’t sure what to think or feel.

How did that happen? _What_ happened? _Was_ this Lance at his most powerful? Or was this Lance pushed into a corner with no clear escape and no desire to die?

Whatever it was, it scared the hell out of Keith.

But… it also tugged at his heart in a way Shiro going missing didn’t. The Red Lion purred just beneath his consciousness and Keith knew part of his attraction was due to the Blue Lion being his polar opposite, his counter element, his balance, his… stability.

So why did that thought _not_ scare him?

* * *

“Alright. I’ll do it,” Allura said.

Coran turned to his princess and niece with a heavy heart. He knew she would make the right decision.

“Coran,” she said and the advisor faced her fully, ready for his orders, “stay here with Lance and try to regain what control you can.” He nodded but didn’t move until the princess finished speaking. “The rest of you,” Allura continued, “go to your Lions and slow this ship down. When I’m done, I’ll open a wormhole and get us out of here.”

The poor child. Coran could see the tears spilling down his precious niece’s cheeks but knew it wasn’t his place to soothe them away. Allura was their leader. He was her advisor. He knew that, but it still hurt knowing there was nothing he could do to ease her pain.

Looking back at Lance, he saw the moment the ice began retreating from the blue gaze and tan skin began melting the whorls of frost. The Druid nodded gravely and Coran tightened his jaw. He had his assigned duty. He would fulfill it to the best of his ability.

As the paladins and Allura ran out of the bridge, Coran glared at the thing that dared pretend to be his brother Alfor. This was not how he ever wanted to remember his late brother. Alfor had been a kind man with a fiery spirit and an adoring father. This was not Alfor. It was merely Sendak wearing Alfor’s face. He hoped Allura destroyed it quickly.

Casting a brief glance over his shoulder to make sure Lance was still on his feet, he ran to the front of the bridge where the helm was. He was careful to circumvent the command pedestal as he went, just in case. It seemed the corrupted A.I. had deemed its impending destruction at the princess’s hands more important than piloting the Castleship into a blazing star.

Good. Hopefully, the monster took its influence with it.

Coran activated the helm and took manual control. He couldn’t do much to stop their approach into the star’s corona, but he could adjust their trajectory by a few degrees. It wasn’t much, but if given enough time and space to maneuver, it would spare them a few precious ticks for Allura to destroy Alfor’s memory core.

A sob broke his concentration, but he refused to let his sadness stop him. He channeled all his pain and loss and sadness and anger into pushing the manual controls as far to the right as he could. This ship would not burn. These paladins would not die. Allura would not die. He would not fail them.

Not again.

This time, he would prevail.

Cool hands covered his own and he opened his eyes. When had he closed them? The hands covering his were slender, long fingered, calloused from hard work, and dark in the ruby light of the star. Following the frayed, brown sleeve with his eyes, Coran was met with Lance’s face.

Ocean blue eyes were dull and lifeless in his young face. The Druid must have been exhausted. Coran knew first-hand the effects of quintessence drain. He’d felt it when he’d given some of his quintessence to the Balmera in exchange for the new crystal. But from the dark shadows under the Druid’s eyes that were _not_ from the star’s light, Coran knew this drain was far more intense. A part of him wondered how Lance was still on his feet.

Suffering from quintessence drain, the lingering effects of vacuum exposure, and whatever else the Druid had suffering during this ordeal, Lance was still here. He was still standing next to Coran helping the advisor pilot the ship to safety. Coran wouldn’t fool himself. He knew part of it was Lance’s desire to live.

But he couldn’t help but hope that another part of the Druid was helping because he _wanted_ to. Because Lance was finally starting to trust them. Hope rekindled in the advisor’s heart and when those tired eyes lifted to his own, he mustered a smile.

“Thank you, Lance,” he said.

Blue widened infinitesimally. Then they softened and the faintest hint of a smile pulled at the Druid’s lips.

Turning back to the helm, Coran braced himself. “Right then,” he said. “Together now.”

Between the two of them, they pushed the manual helm as hard as they could. With each gained degree of change, Coran felt his hope grow and his fear fade.

Until a myriad of warning messages plastered themselves across the bridge’s view screens and klaxons blared throughout the Castle. He heard a weak whimper from next to him and glanced at Lance. The boy -by the Lions, he really was just a boy- was scrunching his face and lifting his shoulders in a weak attempt to cover his ears without removing his hands from Coran’s and the helm. Bless the boy. His sensitive ears must be in pain. Better to deal with this as fast as possible, then.

“Just a bit more, my boy,” he said, pained blue eyes flicking to his own gentle purple. “We can do this. We just need to hold on a bit more. Can you do that?”

Lance winced, tears beginning to pool in in his eyes, catching in his dark lashes. But he nodded nonetheless. This poor boy…

“Good lad,” Coran said, brushing his shoulder against Lance’s.

His gaze dropped to Chulatt who was still huddling close to Lance’s neck, its tiny blue eyes wide with fear, and smiled. The mouse cheeped and scampered down Lance’s arm to the helm and pressed against it with all the strength in its tiny body.

“Right,” the advisor muttered to himself.

Without easing up on the helm, he lifted his head and read over the warning messages as quickly as he could, categorizing them as Important and Not Important.

Cosmic and Ultraviolet Radiation Warnings. He couldn’t do anything about those right now so Not Important.

Particle Barrier Activation Suggested. Important. He looked over his shoulder at the icon for activating the particle barrier and huffed when he realized he couldn’t reach it. Not with his arms, anyway. But improvisation was his middle name. With a well-aimed kick, his toe hit the button and the pale blue patterned barrier materialized around the Castle.

The red radiation warnings changed to yellow and moved to the background of the main view screen revealing yet another warning. Hull Integrity Warning. Again, nothing he could do about that as long as they were stuck here. Until Allura got rid of that A.I. monstrosity, they couldn’t deal with that warning. Not Important.

Then the next warning flashed to the forefront and Coran cursed colorfully. This warning should have been at the _beginning_ not the end! Apparently, when they got out of this, he would need to rework the display priority of warning messages.

Star Explosive Decomposition Warning. Extremely, Very Important!

He leaned forward and hit the open communications button with his elbow. “Paladins! Can you hear me?” he yelled over the klaxons.

 _“Ugh, we hear you Coran,”_ came Shiro’s reply. A small video of the black paladin appeared in the lower right of the main view screen where it would be visible without blocking out the warning messages or the deadly star. _“What do you need?”_

 _“Did Allura do it yet?”_ Hunk cried, a video feed of the yellow paladin appearing next to Shiro’s.

“I’m not sure,” Coran replied. “But if you can, I need you to push the ship as hard as you can to the right.”

 _“Your right? Or my right?”_ Hunk asked, straining in his Lion.

Coran winced. Oh dear. He didn’t think of that. “Set course for zero-zero-zero degrees and climb zero-four-five degrees,” he said. “Push as hard as you can. Lance and I are doing our best from in here.” An indignant squeal from near his hands brought a brief smile to his face. “Make that Lance, and Chulatt, and I,” he corrected.

 _“Can do,”_ Shiro said promptly, adjusting his Lion’s thrusters accordingly.

 _“Whatever Allura’s doing, I hope she does it fast,”_ Pidge said, her own image appearing between Shiro’s and Hunk’s. _“My Lion is getting a lot of readings that I’m really hoping I shouldn’t take seriously.”_

“You should,” Coran said, his mouth set in a grim line. “If you’re getting the same warnings I am, then yes, you definitely should.”

 _“Warnings?”_ Hunk chimed in. _“What warnings? Wait, do I really want to know?”_

“It’s the star,” Coran said. “All indications imply it’s going to explode in short order.”

 _“Explode?!”_ Hunk cried in horror.

“We need to get as far away as possible so we don’t get caught in the blast radius,” Coran continued over the yellow paladin’s cry. “So everyone, push as hard as you can. Our lives literally depend on it.”

 _“Roger,”_ the three paladins answered.

 _“Oh, please, please work,”_ Hunk moaned.

“Come on, Allura,” Coran muttered as he pushed the helm with all of his might. “Come on. You can do this. You can _do_ this. We believe in you. _I_ believe in you. You can do this. You _must_ do this. Please Allura. Please, for all our sakes, _hurry.”_

“She will.”

Startled by the unexpected voice, Coran looked at Lance.

“She will,” Lance said again, just as softly as before. “She’ll do it.”

“Lance?” Oh, this boy. Was he trying to encourage Coran? If anyone needed some emotional support right now, it was Allura and Lance.

“She can do this,” Lance said. “She has to.” He licked his lips nervously and met Coran’s gaze. He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. He swallowed instead.

And Coran understood. No words were needed. Those blue eyes hid nothing. The fear reflected in them was genuine and as bright as a young, pure Balmeran crystal. Lance needed Allura to do this. They all did.

But perhaps Lance most of all. Maybe this was what the boy needed to see Allura as a friend and not a princess or a witch. That he trusted Allura with this was…

Coran smiled and nodded, refusing to show the daunting fear curling in his own belly. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, I believe she will. We just have to hold on here and buy her the time she needs, yeah?” Lance gave a stuttering nod. Bless him. “Good lad.”

_“Coran! Paladins!”_

“Allura!” the advisor shouted in surprise, mirrored by the paladins in their Lions.

 _“Get your Lions back on board. Coran, open a wormhole and get us out of here now!”_ the princess commanded.

“You got it, princess,” Coran said, followed by a _“Yes ma’am,”_ a _“Hallelujah!”_ -whatever that meant- and an _“On our way!”_ from the paladins in quick succession.

“Lance,” Coran said, waiting for the boy to look at him. “I need you to hold the helm like this until we’re completely turned around while I work on opening a wormhole. Can you do that for me?” A frantic nod. “Alright. Be right back.”

Without waiting for a reply, Coran hurried across the bridge and hopped onto the command pedestal. This wasn’t his usual duty but no pilot worth his nunvil wasn’t trained in basic wormhole operation.

“Standby for wormhole activation,” he said over the open communications. “Everyone in their hangers?”

 _“We’re all here, Coran,”_ Shiro replied.

“Good. Hold on.”

He gripped the control columns and powered the Castleship around, boosting Lance’s influence on the helm. The star’s light dimmed as the ship turned away from it and the engines spooled up in preparation for a wormhole jump.

Wait. The star wasn’t dimming because they weren’t facing it anymore. Coran turned to look over his shoulder and paled. “By the Lions,” he breathed. “Open!” he shouted, pouring all of the quintessence he could into the control columns. “Come on, come on, come on. Open! We need a wormhole now. Open! _Open!”_

He had never been so thrilled to see the familiar flash of blue and swirl of an Altean-made wormhole in his entire life.

“Here we go!”

With Lance’s help, Coran flew the Castle straight for the wormhole. The star’s light faded, then filled every view screen with blinding light. He heard Lance cry out from somewhere by the helm in front of him, but Coran refused to lose hope now of all times. He pushed the Castle forward and-

-burst out into dark, empty space and the soft blue light from the wormhole vanished behind them. Coran’s knees quivered in relief. They made it. They _made it_. They were safe.

A whimper.

Oh dear. Pushing back his own relief, wobbly knees, and quivering nerves, Coran stepped off the pedestal and moved to Lance’s side. The boy was crouched on the floor by the helm, eyes squeezed shut, and hands clapped over his ears. Little Chulatt was nuzzling the boy’s tear-stained cheek in a mousy hug but made no sound.

Kneeling by Lance’s side, he gently wrapped his arms around the boy and pulled him close. “We did it,” he said softly, rubbing soothing circles up and down the boy’s back. “We did it, son. We’re safe. And we couldn’t have done it without you.” He brought one hand up to the back of Lance’s head and pressed the boy close. “Thank you, Lance.”

A soft sob met Coran’s ears and he sighed. He bowed his head so the scale on his cheek lightly brushed Lance’s, eliciting a startled whimper and stuttered breath. He made sure the touch was brief and gentle, but enough to show all of the gratitude, trust, and hope he felt for Lance’s help.

“Thank you,” he said again.

After a moment, he felt a return nuzzle and light brush of scale on scale. Fear, pain, relief, confusion, sorrow, fatigue, and the faintest flicker of hope flowed into Coran through the contact. He smiled. Good. Very good. Lance wasn’t lost to them yet. They were all alive and safe.

There was hope left.


	21. Wake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lance wakes and hears something insane while Keith is happy because stairs! but mad while walking up the stairs, until he meets someone he didn't expect to see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** This chapter is almost all fluff, with a dash of angst and humor.

Warmth surrounded him; the soft warmth of blankets and pillows. Whatever he had been sleeping on was just soft enough to be comfortable. He preferred it softer, but this was perfectly fine. It was warm and dipped where his body lay. Lance could just imagine what he looked like and it made him smile and cuddle deeper into his cocoon of warm softness.

His body felt heavy and strangely fuzzy, making it difficult to string clear thoughts together. His muscles ached much like after a bought with a high fever. At least he wasn’t sweating. Waking up to a pool of his own sweat was never pleasant. That meant he had to wallow in his feverish sweat and achy, heavy body until he was well enough to wash his sheets. Doing chores immediately after recovering from illness was one of the things Lance hated most of all.

So why did he feel like this if he wasn’t sick? He couldn’t feel the radiant heat of a fever, or hear the hushed tones of his siblings moving around in their shared spherical home, or feel the slow undulation of the sea breeze. That mean he had probably overworked himself and used more quintessence than what he could quickly recover from. His family was probably out for the daylight vargas leaving him to recover in peace and quiet in their undersea home.

But if that was true, then why couldn’t he feel the ebb and flow of the sea around him? Also, however much he was enjoying cocooning himself in this very comfortable bed, it wasn’t right. It didn’t smell like _his._ And where was his favorite pillow? Lance never threw his favorite pillow away when he slept in his own bed.

Which meant this wasn’t his bed, and this wasn’t his home, and he was still too bone weary to be afraid of that thought. Well, wherever he was, at least it was comfy so it couldn’t be too bad, right? ...don’t answer that. He knew he’d slept like the dead last night and, while he didn’t regret a single dobosh of it, he was still tired.

Yet, he somehow knew he felt one hundred percent better than he had yesterquintant. The fog of sleep was beginning to fade and his thoughts were flowing a bit more clearly now. Blue eyes cracked open and he sighed in relief when the room was still pleasantly dim. The glow of soft turquoise light lining the walls just above the floor was dialed down to its lowest setting, providing just enough light for those with less sensitive eyes to see by. Point for wherever he was.

The Castle of Lions.

Hmm, point redacted. Not home, not even the Galra Empire. He was with the rebels. Worse. He was with Voltron. Was that worse, though? Really? Ever since he’d made that truce with the green paladin, no one had tried to kill him.

Well, except for Sendak and the… the… He swallowed and refused to finish that thought. Better to forget that. He was warm and safe right now. Besides, Sendak was stabbed, spaced, and had his memory core destroyed. And as far as Lance knew, the… other… person’s memory core had also been destroyed.

Lance was safe. He was _safe._

Right?

Something moved by his nose and he almost crossed his eyes to see what it was. A small smile bloomed on his face at the sight of Chulatt and Chuchule cuddled up on his pillow between his nose and the blankets. How long had they been there? Had they been with him since… then? How had he not crushed them during his frequent, nightly rolls and sprawls?

Dismissing the thought, Lance worked an arm free of his blanket nest, nearly bopping himself in the chin when it finally came free. He ran a finger through the mice’s blue and pink fur, brushing their tiny, silky ears. Pressing a feather light kiss to their heads, Lance relaxed back into the bed and allowed himself to doze for another half varga or so.

No one came in to wake him so he assumed he wasn’t late for anything. They were all recovering from this morning’s nonsense. Was it really this morning? What time was it? Had that all happened yesterquintant?

Oh frell, please tell him he hadn’t slept through another handful of quintants. Beauty sleep was imperative, sure, but there was such a thing as _too much_ beauty sleep. It was hardly a good thing to oversleep and miss the very event he’d been getting his beauty sleep for. Or just missing the whole quintant entirely. That was reserved for bad quintants.

Like this quintant.

…but seriously, it was still this quintant…right?

With a low grumble, Lance reluctantly pushed himself up and crawled out of his blanket and pillow nest. His bare feet touched the cool floor and he shivered. It wasn’t anything he wasn’t used to, but after the warmth of his cocoon, it was chilly by comparison. At least the lights were still dim.

He yawned and stretched his aching body, purring when he got several satisfying pops in his back, neck and shoulders. How had he gotten into bed? He couldn’t remember so it must not have been important. A soft cheep and _:curiosity:_ pulled his gaze back to the bed where the two mice were stirring. He smiled and knelt by the bunk so he could pet them and listen to whatever incomprehensible squeaky story they wanted to tell him.

“Hey,” he whispered. “Sorry. Did I wake you?”

Chulatt shook his head, rubbing the sleep dust from his eyes. Chuchule scolded the blue mouse and began patiently grooming him. She batted Lance’s finger away so she could fluff up the tuft of blue fur on Chulatt’s head. Then she began grooming herself and Lance went back to scratching the blue mouse’s cheeks.

“I’m just going to get some food,” he said softly. “You can go back to sleep if you want to.”

Chulatt chirped and tilted his head up at Lance at the word ‘food.’ Chuchule had the grace to blink at him before squeaking a request he couldn’t deny.

“If you want to,” he said. “Just let me put on some clothes first.”

He sat back and looked for his brown Druidic under shirt and pants with a disgusted sigh. He was really getting annoyed with wearing the same clothes over and over. It wasn’t sanitary and made him feel _dirty._ Gross. He could shower all he wanted but putting on the same dirty clothes just negated all that hard work.

Wait. Why were his clothes neatly folded on the ledge by the foot of the bed? They smelled clean. He didn’t remember washing them. Or folding them, for that matter. Who could have washed his clothes and folded them? _Why_ would they do that? He was still the enemy, sort of, right?

He’d have to thank whoever did his laundry. They really didn’t have to. He needed to get another spare set of clothes. No, what he needed to do was go shopping at a Swap Moon. Preferably some blue clothes. Oooh, and he wouldn’t mind getting a new set of earrings either, shiny ones. Didn’t the witch mention something about liking sparkly things, too? Maybe they could…

The witch.

He paused, swallowing back the sudden influx of nausea, Lance leaned against the wall. He pressed his forehead to the cool metal and closed his eyes, counting his breaths. He remembered. He remembered everything.

The relentless countdown ringing in his ears. The calm, sure knowledge that he was going to die slowly and painfully. The gnawing despair that he would never see his family or his home again. Little Chulatt’s frantic efforts to save him. The roaring wind battering him raw. The utter silence and weightlessness of vacuum.

Then waking, alive and in pain, only to find himself flying for yet another death. This time in the form of an exploding star. Ah yes. Now he knew why he felt like he’d overworked himself. He had, in a sense. He’d pulled more quintessence from his reserves than he should have in order to break the particle barrier keeping the witch and her Demon father untouched.

The Demon. Lance could already feel his breathing hitch, threatening to pick up speed and lose the healthy depth. He needed to calm down. The Demon was gone. Gone. Dead. Destroyed. The witch destroyed the Demon’s memory core. Lance hadn’t seen the remnants of it himself, but he trusted the witch to keep her word.

They weren’t going to burn up in a star’s corona or be vaporized by its violent death. They’d escaped through a wormhole. Coran had held him and promised him they were safe. That it was over. Coran had thanked him - _thanked him!-_ and called him by name.

Not crazy Druid. Not blue paladin. Lance.

Just Lance.

That meant more to Lance than he could properly put to words. He wasn’t a hood and mask here. He didn’t have to be. He could just be himself. Lance. He could be Lance. That was such a relief.

He was safe.

For now, anyway. With this crazy crew, Lance highly doubted he would ever be completely safe or that his misadventures would ever be truly over. A part of him was terrified by that thought, but another part was… attracted to it. The idea of something new always waiting around the next planet. A new adventure. A new discovery. New and shiny and interesting.

But not home.

Sorrow settled in his gut, dragging him down to his knees and tugging tears from his eyes. He’d come so disturbingly close to death twice in the past quintant -quintants?- and he was beginning to feel it. He wanted to crawl back into his blanket nest and sleep more than he already had. He wanted to sleep away this madness and wake up at home.

It would never happen, but he could dream.

Soft paws and _:Worry. Pain? Cry?:_ brushed his senses. He flinched back, jolted out of his funk by the unexpected brush of emotions that didn’t belong to him. They weren’t Blue’s either. He could feel the Blue Lion as a steady gurgling brook just below his consciousness. These emotions didn’t carry the cold that typically tinged the Blue Lion’s everything.

So then where?

A soft squeak of a question and _:worry:_. What? Lance rested his weary blue gaze on his two mousy companions. Could… Could they…? Chuchule scuttled to the edge of the bed and looked up at him with her gentle, motherly eyes and chittered. There wasn’t any accompanying emotions this time until-

 _:Worry. Well? Cry?:_ when Chulatt squeaked his own question.

Oh. Lance fell on gracelessly on his butt and stared at the tiny, blue mouse in shock. Chulatt was… Chulatt was _inside_ his _head?!_ Oh frell. Oh frell! What…? How…?

 _:Calm!:_ Chulatt squeaked, waving his tiny paws frantically. _:Calm! No hurt. Not alone. Here.:_

“Yes,” Lance gasped. “Yes, you are here which is why this is… Wha…” He moaned breathlessly and let his head hang limply back. “I have a mouse in my head,” he said slowly. “I have a _mouse_ in my _head.”_

_:Worry. Well?:_

Was he well? Well, now _there_ was the question of the varga. He had a mouse in his head _:offense?:_ who was apparently not liking how Lance was taking this. A choked sound escaped his dry throat, quickly morphing into a borderline hysterical laughter that Lance couldn’t stop. _:Worry:_ More laughter.

What the frell? What the frell?

He wasn’t ready for this.

What the quiznak. Look at everything else that had happened. This was nothing in comparison. _:curiosity:_ Eh. Whatever. Maybe the world was sane. Maybe _he_ was the one insane here.

Quiznak. He didn’t give a frak anymore. Bring it on.

* * *

Keith sat in the silently yet unanimously declared paladin common room with a bowl of fresh food goo in his hands. Hunk was sitting quietly across from him, eating his own food goo slowly. Keith had only managed a few bites before giving up. But he knew Hunk would sit on him again if he skipped yet another meal.

So he deliberately scooped a sporkful of green goo into his mouth, chewed, and swallowed. He repeated those steps until his bowl was empty. Lifting his mildly annoyed gaze to the yellow paladin, he tilted his bowl so Hunk could clearly see it was empty. When Hunk nodded in approval, Keith sighed in relief.

“Thank you, Keith,” Hunk said, finally working on his own food goo in earnest.

Keith just huffed and stood. “I’ll go put this in the kitchen and meet you guys on the bridge,” he said. “Maybe Pidge finally found something useful from Sendak’s memories.”

“Yeah,” Hunk grumbled. “I’m still not sure how I feel about sifting through someone else’s memories.”

Keith eyed the yellow paladin incredulously. “He was a bad guy,” he sat in a flat tone.

“I mean, yeah, but still,” Hunk said, lifting his gentle gaze to Keith.

Keith blinked. “He’s a _dead_ bad guy,” he said.

“Yeah,” Hunk said, nodding. “But still.”

Hunk… was weird. “Whatever, man,” Keith said, rolling his eyes and turning back to the doors. “I’ll take whatever advantage I can get in this war.”

Behind him, he heard Hunk sigh heavily before the door hissed closed and the hallway lights brightened. Coran had finally - _finally!-_ given the paladins a more in-depth tour of the Castle of Lions. This time, the Altean advisor had included the stairwells hidden in clever little corners of the ship.

Everyone knew about the main staircase leading from the entryway to the healing pod chamber level and the main habitation level where all the paladins lived and slept. But these hidden stairwells were incredibly useful. Keith could think of any number of uses for these. Surprise attacks on unsuspecting intruders, places to think and focus quietly without being distracted by the other paladins, and getting to the bridge in a hurry.

There were a few catches, though. Naturally. Only one staircase went all the way from the main entry level to the observation deck at the top of the ship. And it was a spiral staircase. Keith hated spiral staircases. It made sense why the Alteans chose that design. It was simple, compact, and did the job. But it meant climbing in endless circles with a door opening onto every level except the bridge. It gave Keith a headache just thinking of all those circles.

Ugh.

The other stairs were steep, but the more basic zigzag design Keith preferred. These stairs didn’t go to every floor, but they connected the levels more often used by whoever designed this ship. None of them went directly to the bridge, either, unfortunately. Keith would eventually have to resort to the lift for that. Security measures and all that. Blah, blah, blah, lazy Alteans who didn’t take power outages into consideration when building their giant, flying fortresses powered by a single Balmeran crystal.

No weaknesses. Safety of the crew. Security of the bridge.

Keith absently wondered what the design of this place would have been if the builders had met Sendak.

The narrow door slid aside and Keith stepped out of the stairwell into the hallway near the kitchen. After placing his dish by the Altean sink -which he still hadn’t figured out, by the way- Keith walked back to the hidden stairs and began the climb up several levels to the paladins’ living quarters. Then he’d switch to the lift. He could use the exercise.

Maybe Lance was awake.

The climb was quiet as usual and the few view screens on the wall came to life as Keith approached. The Castle seemed to be still for the moment as none of the distant stars appeared to be moving. Hopefully, that meant Allura was paying attention to Pidge’s findings and not just slacking off and not flying them anywhere.

He grimaced. He really should give the princess more slack. But after what happened a day and a half ago, Keith wasn’t feeling really nice. He knew he was being irrational, but every time he thought of Allura’s father taking over the ship and nearly killing all of them, he felt angry.

He wasn’t angry at any one person or thing either. And that just made it worse. He was just angry with no target and that was driving him nuts.

There was also Lance.

The Druid hadn’t woken since that day. When Keith had gotten back to the bridge after they’d escaped the wormhole and exploding star, he’d been ecstatic from the thrill of adrenaline and surviving! Then he’d seen Lance and their victory lost its glow.

Coran had carried Lance to the pods to be sure he was healing. But instead of leaving the Druid in there, Coran had opted to just let Lance sleep naturally. The advisor had continuously checked in on Lance over the past couple of days and updated them all on Lance’s progress.

But he still hadn’t woken up yet and for some reason, that bothered Keith to no end. Why wasn’t Lance awake? Was he ever going to wake?

That lightning…

Keith felt his mouth go dry at the memory of those ice-laced bolts of sheer power flashing and dancing in the bridge. It had been terrible and beautiful and…

He waved his hand over the panel by the door to the paladins’ quarters and stepped out into the hallway. Without lifting his eyes from the floor, Keith veered right and made his way down the hall to the lift. He barely heard the soft hiss of a door opening until he caught a glimpse of movement in his peripheral vision.

Instantly, he tensed and lifted his head. Who was here? Wasn’t everyone on the bridge with Allura and Pidge already? Unless it was Hunk stopping by his room the get something. But Hunk’s room was back there so who…

Startled blue eyes and two pink and blue mice. Lance. Lance was awake.


	22. Awkward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which awkwardness becomes something else and curiosity becomes dangerous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** And into the next story arc we go. Y'all ready? Too bad. It's happening anyway. Would it make y'all feel better to know I have no idea how this is going to turn out either? I'll be just as surprised as y'all. I love it.

“Y-you’re awake?” Keith gasped, his violet eyes bright and wide.

Lance was not awake enough for this. _:giggle:_ Oh ‘Verse, and now Chulatt was laughing at him. In the little blue mouse’s defense, Chuchule was probably laughing at him too, if Lance interpreted her soft chittering right. He felt so judged right now.

He breathed a heavy, put upon sigh. “Yes,” he groaned. “I’m awake. Unfortunately.”

Keith blinked, thrown. “Unfortunately?” he said. “What do you mean ‘unfortunately’? Do you have any idea how long you were out?”

“Not really,” Lance admitted, visibly wilting. He glanced back at his bedroom longingly. “I want to go back to bed,” he grumbled. He shivered, rubbing his hands up and down his arms in an effort to warm up. “It was warm in there.”

“You were asleep for almost two days,” Keith said with a grim expression.

“Days?” Lance said, moving to the lift. “Those are one of your people’s words for a time-slice, right?”

“Oh, yeah,” Keith said, falling into step next to the Druid. “We’re still trying to figure out all the lingo around here.”

Ling go? The frell was that?

“I think,” Keith continued, “a quintant is a day, if I remember right.”

So he’d been asleep for almost two quintants. He really needed to learn to hold back sometimes. He’d been on board this frell-foresaken Castleship for nearly two movements now and he’d only been unconscious for maybe two-thirds of that time. That was ridiculous.

He was getting soft and out of shape. That was unacceptable. His quintessence reserves weren’t back to full, but they were close enough to start working on simple training exercises. Blue eyes flickered to Keith and back to the lift. He wouldn’t mind if the red paladin joined him for some of those exercises.

So long as they were not in the training arena. Yes. Lance would be avoiding the training arena and the airlock level for a while on principle.

“Anyway,” the red paladin said with a huff, tucking his gloved hands in his pockets. “I’m glad you’re awake. We were worried about you.”

Lance didn’t need his newfound mouse empathy to feel the _:wink wink nudge nudge:_ stuff going on between Chulatt and Chuchule on his shoulders. Frell, those two. The blush blossoming on his cheeks wasn’t helping matters any, either.

“Oh. Well, thank you,” he mumbled. What was he supposed to say to that? They worried about him? What? They barely knew him. Why would they worry about him?

The lift doors hissed open and Lance stepped aside so Keith could go in first. It wasn’t all for politeness’ sake. He liked looking at the red paladin’s smeg. He wasn’t ashamed of it. He just… didn’t know how to handle it. How was he supposed to feel about attractive possible enemies who were also possible allies?

As the doors slid closed behind him, Lance reached out to press the button for the kitchen level, and ended up hitting the top of Keith’s hand. It was a bit awkward, but before Lance could simply apologize, Keith yanked his hand back.

“Sorry!” Keith said quickly.

Lance blinked. Was that a blush on the red paladin’s face? Should he call him on it? The reactions Lance could imagine on Keith’s face were making it oh so tempting.

“U-um, bridge,” Keith said, looking anywhere but Lance. He cleared his throat and yes, that was definitely a blush. So frelling tempting. “I mean, bridge level. Please.”

In that moment, Lance realized something. The red paladin of the Voltron team was awkward. Not the young-child-stumbling-over-their-own-feet-as-they-learn-to-walk kind of awkward, but the I-have-no-idea-what-to-do kind of awkward. Be strong, Lance. Be strong.

Frak it. He wasn’t strong.

“You’re making the Red Lion jealous again, Keithy-Keith,” he drawled, pressing the button for the bridge level.

Whoops. Maybe, he should have waited until _after_ he was stuck in an enclosed space before blabbing something like that. Although, Lance eyed the rather impressive blush on the red paladin’s face, the reward was definitely worth it.

He snorted, quickly covering his mouth with his hand. Oh no. He heard nothing. Absolutely nothing.

“Did… Did you just snort?” Keith said incredulously.

Quiznak.

“No.”

He lowered his hand and cleared his throat while _:giggle:_ and _:disbelief:_ tingled in his mind. He shot a disgruntle look at Chulatt and was promptly met with Chuchule’s shamelessly smiling face.

“You did,” Keith said, sure now. “You freaking snorted.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Lance said, folding his arms behind his back with a shrug.

Narrowed violet looked right at Lance. Both black eyebrows dropped low over Keith’s eyes in a frown. Whatever the red paladin had been looking for he must have found because Keith suddenly grinned smugly and straightened. He crossed his arms and snickered.

“You suck at lying,” he said. “Pig.”

Was that an insult? “Excuse me?” Lance gasped in offense.

“You’re excused,” Keith chirped, smugly. The frakking bastard even winked at him.

“Hey!” Lance cried. “That’s _my_ comeback.”

Keith shrugged easily. “Then I guess you shouldn’t have left it out there for anyone to use,” he shot back.

“Ugh!”

That- That- Well, if that’s the way it was going to be, then two could play that game. Screw hesitancy. In fact, Lance _hoped_ what he was about to do was a taboo to Keith’s people. He couldn’t use much quintessence before his reserves were fully restored, but a little bit wouldn’t cause too much of a problem. If it went the way Lance planned, then it would escalate things perfectly.

Lance folded his arms and waited in not entirely feigned annoyance. Cool quintessence slid through his veins, down his arms, pooling in his palms before funneling into his fingertips. Patience. Wait for the right moment.

The doors hissed open and Keith stepped forward first. And promptly jumped a good half span off the ground with a shriek that would make Chulatt and Chuchule proud. Oh sweet vengeance, Lance thought gleefully, twirling his fingers so quintessence sparked.

_:Laughter. Pride. Mischief.:_

“Hello, everyone,” he said in a sing-song voice, striding right past Keith. “Did you miss me?”

“You- You _bastard!”_ Keith cried, his hands plastered to his smeg and his face blood red in mortification.

“Lance? Is that you?” the yellow paladin called, his broad smile spreading across his face.

“Hello, Hunk,” Lance said, dismissing his quintessence with a flick of a finger. “Glad to see someone missed me.”

“What the hell did you do to Keith?” Pidge said, staring at the obviously still flustered red paladin. “I didn’t know his voice could get that high.”

Lance laughed, holding his finger up for Chulatt to pat proudly. Chuchule kept her amusement to some polite squeaks behind a dainty, pink paw.

“Nothing much,” Lance said, glancing at Keith in knowing amusement. “I just introduced him to one of the many uses of quintessence.”

Keith glared at him and hissed, “You are insane.”

Lance snickered. “Yes, so you’ve said. Several times, actually,” he replied. “But enough about me,” he paused to wink at the red paladin, enjoying the new flush of red. “How is everyone? I haven’t seen anyone in- _erk!”_

Oh frell. What the- Hug?

“Uh, um.”

He gulped, not sure what to make of the sudden embrace or what to do with his arms. Blinking in confusion, Lance took a deep breath and cautiously raised his hands to touch the back of Coran’s shirt.

“I’m so glad you’re alright, my boy,” Coran whispered.

He wasn’t ready for this. Frell it all, Lance wasn’t _ready_ for this. His fingers twitched on Coran’s back before curling into fists around the cloth and clinging to the advisor for all he was worth. His blue eyes squeezed shut and he buried his face in the taller man’s chest.

Chulatt curled up close to Lance’s ear and Chuchule made a soft, whistling sound that was soothing to his senses. Coran tightened his grip for a few ticks before easing up and letting Lance step back. His hands didn’t move from Lance’s arms though.

“Feeling better?” Coran asked, his mustache bouncing with each word. “You had quite a rough time of it the other quintant.”

Mustering a smile, Lance shrugged. “I’ve had worse,” he said. Not really. Not _at all_ really. But it felt better to say that then something else. “The nap helped.”

“Yeah,” Pidge grumbled, her smile softening her words. “The two day nap. Dude, when you do stuff, you overdo it.”

“No I don’t,” Lance argued.

“Bullshit,” Keith grumbled, finally joining the group while remaining a good span out of Lance’s reach.

“Ooh, is that a new curse word?” Lance teased, stepping out of Coran’s arms entirely.

The hug felt good, but it did things to his conscience that he wasn’t comfortable with. These people were his kind-of-sort-of allies, not his friends. Not yet.

“‘Lance’ should be a curse word,” Keith countered.

Lance blinked. “How would my name be a curse word?” he asked.

“On that note,” Shiro said before an argument could start, “I’m glad you’re awake and feeling better Lance.”

“Thanks,” he said awkwardly. Why was everyone acting like they were actually worried about him? Had they really worried about him? Why? What had he done to earn their concern?

“Come join us,” Shiro said, waving Lance and Keith over to where the others were gathered around the green paladin’s seat. “We could use your expertise here.”

…That wasn’t foreboding at all…

Hesitantly, Lance stepped up to the group, stiffening when he noticed the witch leaning over the green paladin’s shoulder. She was pointing at something on the green holographic displays projected from the paladin’s chair arms.

The Demon was dead. The witch got rid of him. The Demon was dead. The witch got rid of him. Just keep repeating that until he believed it.

Taking a deep breath, Lance took his place between Coran and Hunk on the green paladin’s right. The opposite side the witch was on. Hunk brought a hand down on his shoulder, startling him, but the smile the yellow paladin offered was sincere and nonthreatening.

Chulatt cheeped _:curious:_ and Lance looked down at his sleeve where Chuchule was scampering down the fabric. The pink mouse squeaked and hopped onto Coran’s shoulder where she waited for the witch to hold out her hand. Then Chuchule crawled onto the witch’s hand and allowed herself to be lifted up to the witch’s shoulder to join her green and blue companions already there.

Lance grimaced. He still wasn’t sure what to make of this strange, unspoken arrangement between him, the witch, and the mice.

“We were looking through what we’ve been able to recover from Sendak’s downloaded memories and-”

And _now_ Lance was definitely paying attention.

“His _what?”_ he demanded. “You said you _killed_ Sendak.”

“And we did,” Shiro said firmly, meeting Lance’s eyes sincerely. “I promise. He’s dead and gone.”

“But some of his memories were copied onto a hard drive in code format,” Pidge said, not bothering to look up from the readouts on her display. “I checked and double checked. They don’t have any form of sentience any of my programs or the Castle’s can detect.”

Lance relaxed slightly, rolling his shoulders.

“Anyway,” Pidge continued, “we were hoping to find something useful here to give us an edge against Zarkon.”

Oh. Oh frell. They wanted him to-

“Most of it isn’t really useful,” the witch said, studying the readouts with Pidge with a frown of concentration. “But this section here,” she tapped a particular block of unreadable code that look suspiciously like a mix of numbers and symbols that were supposedly Altean letters, “keeps coming up again and again. We’re not sure what it is.” She looked up at Lance. “We were hoping maybe you could help.”

Lance gulped. He wasn’t a traitor. He couldn’t… He couldn’t. He just couldn’t.

But, he had a truce.

But no truce demanded one go against their beliefs or morals. He could work around this. Maybe he could even use this. It all depended on what this block of old Altean code revealed of Sendak’s memories.

Please don’t be something sensitive.

He nodded slowly. “I’ll try,” he said. Wiggle room. No guarantees either way.

The witch nodded and selected the block of code. Pidge made a few, quick calculations, and swiped her finger up to the top of the holographic display. Then the bridge’s main view screen flickered and a new window appeared over the display of the space around them. Lines of code ran up the window before a new window opened revealing coordinates.

Lance gulped. Oh quiznak.

“Coran, could you locate these coordinates using the long-range sensors, please?” the witch asked.

It probably wasn’t what Lance thought it was. And even if it was, these were coded memories recovered from a destroyed memory core and a dead Galra. Chances were, they were corrupted.

“Oh! Got it, princess,” Coran said from his place by the bridge’s helm. “Turns out we’re close enough to get a clear picture.”

The advisor tapped a few commands into the control panel and a new window appeared on the main view screen over the window of code. Two planets, one a gas giant and the other a large, rocky world devoid of life, and a decent sized moon hung on the blackness of the image. A star, not visible in the image, shone on one side of each celestial body, leaving the other sides in darkness.

It was. Oh frak, it was exactly what Lance thought it was. The Galactic Hub for this quadrant. Why did they have to find this?

Quiznak. Quiznak. Quiznak! Frak you, Sendak. Quiznak Sendak to Zarkon’s smeg and back. You fool! How could you be thinking about that? _Why_ were you thinking about that? There was no reason to. They weren’t due for a visit for another ten phoebs _at least._ This… Lance couldn’t…

“I don’t get it,” Hunk said, a thoughtful frown on his face. “There’s nothing there. You sure this isn’t an error, Pidge?”

Yes. Say ‘yes,’ Pidge.

The green paladin shot Hunk an annoyed look before shaking her head. “It isn’t,” she said confidently. “There’s no way this exact code could pop up in here the number of times it did unless there was some reason for it.”

“Maybe it wasn’t coordinates?” Keith offered. “It could be something else.”

Do _not_ sigh in relief.

“You want to do my job?” Pidge snapped. “Be my guest.”

Keith hunched his shoulders and glowered at Pidge.

“We must be missing something,” Shiro said in a reasonable voice. “Can you zoom in any further, Coran?”

The advisor shook his head regretfully. “Unfortunately, no,” he said. “This is on the very edge of our long-range scanners as it is.”

“That’s a very odd arrangement of planets,” Hunk said. “I can’t see how that would be stable.”

“Hunk’s right,” Pidge said, adjusting her glasses with a thoughtful frown. “The gravity between them would interfere too much and throw them off course.”

“They could be on Lagrangian points,” Shiro offered.

Laguajamawhatnow?

“Maybe,” Pidge agreed. But the tilt of her head left room for doubt.

“Ehm,” the witch said, “what are these lagu-thing points exactly?”

“Lagrangian points,” Shiro corrected her in a patient voice. “In a nutshell, they’re points created by two, large, orbiting objects where the gravity of the two objects can render a single, smaller object stationary relative to those larger objects.” He nodded to the image on the view screen. “In this case, those two large planets could be at Lagrangian points relative to their orbital patterns.” He glanced significantly at the small moon. “Although, that moon being where it is throws a wrench in that theory.”

Keith cocked his head slightly. “Not exactly,” he said. “If I remember my astronomy stuff right-”

“Which you’d better from all the tutoring I gave you,” the black paladin said with a teasing smile.

Keith hunched his shoulders more and glared without real heat at Shiro. “As I was saying,” he began, “from what I remember, two points are required for a Lagrangian point setup. Those two planets could be one setup, but that moon could be part of another.”

Pidge gave the red paladin a flat look. “Alright, genius,” she said. “If that moon’s part of another Lagrangian point pair, then where’s its partner?”

Keith flushed. “How would I know?” he cried. “I’m a pilot, not an astronomy major. I studied it because I had to, not because I enjoy it.”

Despite his gnawing anxiety, Lance cracked a smile at Keith’s flustered stance.

“Was there anything else embedded in the code that could help identify what we’re looking at, Pidge?” the witch asked curiously.

“I mean, maybe,” the green paladin said.

She looked back down to her smaller holographic display and typed a few commands into the program. Her tongue brushed her lower lips as she worked. A couple ticks later, she sat up and swiped her finger up to the top of her display once more and yet another window appeared on the main view screen.

“As far as I can tell, it’s a name,” she said. “I think it’s Universal Station, but I’m translating from Galra so it could be something more along the lines of Galactic Hub.”

“Either way, that sounds suitably suspicious,” Hunk said. “Suspicious Space Base.”

Pidge snickered.

“More importantly,” Keith said, his lips twitching despite his self-control, “if it is a station or hub or base or whatever, then what is it a station or hub or base or whatever for? What’s its purpose? And why is it hidden way out here in the middle of nowhere?”

“Again, suspicious space base,” Hunk said, crossing his arms and staring up at the image.

“Agreed,” Shiro said with a nod. “What do you think, Lance?” he asked, turning to the Druid. “Look familiar?”

Lance stiffened. Then mentally slapped himself. That had been answer enough, frak it.

“I take that as a yes,” the black paladin said seriously. “Princess? It’s your call.”

Please don’t investigate it. Please don’t investigate it. Please don’t investigate it.

“Coran,” the witch said, standing up straight. “Set a course for those coordinates.”

Quiznak. He wanted to go back to bed.


	23. Hub

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lance won't talk but won't be left behind and Keith dismisses an annoyance, and regrets it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** With this, I've passed the halfway point to the NaNoWriMo 50k word count goal. I'm gonna do this!!!

“It’s so small,” Pidge said, leaning forward so her forearms rested on her thighs. “Does it have any fortifications at all?”

“Not that we can detect,” Coran replied, also studying the small hub built into the side of a small moon. “Although I can see why it wouldn’t necessarily need them.” He made a few calculations and several visualizations appeared superimposed over the image on the bridge’s main view screen. “Apparently, the gravitational fields from the two planets and that moon create enough of a distortion in the electron emission spectrum to hide the hub from our deep-space scanners.”

“So, in other words, only someone who knew what to look for and where to look could possibly find this place,” Keith said, resting his hands on his hips.

“Correct,” Coran replied, shaking his head with a wry smile. “Cleverly done.”

The witch sighed. “Unfortunately, since Lance still won’t tell us what this place is,” several stern glares aimed in his direction which he did his best to ignore, “we’ll have to figure it out on our own.”

“Lance,” Shiro said, “are you sure you can’t tell us anything?”

He remained seated in the blue paladin’s chair, arms crossed over his chest and glaring heatedly at the floor.

“Anything at all?” Shiro pressed.

He wouldn’t say anything. He couldn’t betray his people or the Empire. He refused.

Footsteps echoed across the bridge but Lance refused to acknowledge their approach. Then the footsteps stopped in front of him and blue pants appeared on the edge of his vision as the person knelt. He tensed. Coran.

“Lance,” the advisor said, soft and nonthreatening. “I don’t claim to understand what you’re feeling right now. But if we want to investigate this without causing undue collateral damage by accident, then we need to know as much as we can beforehand.”

…he was right. But… Lance pressed his lips together, his heart squeezing in his chest. He’d seen what kind of ‘undue collateral damage’ the Voltron team was capable of. Too much.

The Galra Empire’s Galactic Hubs were well hidden. As far as Lance knew, even the resistance fighters hadn’t been able to track them down yet. For this reason, they kept staff to a minimum. He knew this particular Hub was rarely staffed with more than a skeleton crew with sentries and a couple drones to fill in the gaps. The fewer who knew the inner workings of the Hubs, the more secure the secret of their existence was.

The only reason Lance knew about them was because he was a Druid. He had to know. All Druids, both Masters and Apprentices, were trained for the possibility of holding a position at a Hub. Hopefully, the skills they learned would only be utilized at a Hub, but sometimes emergencies would happen and those skills were required for field use. It was rare but had happened often enough for Haggar to mandate training in quintessence refinement a requirement.

That meant there would be at least one Druid on that Hub. Probably a Master. If the Voltron team met a Master Druid, they would most likely be defeated. But if they made it to the Druid in the first place, then that would mean a trail of bodies behind and Lance could not condone that.

But they didn’t know. They had no way of knowing unless he told them, which he wouldn’t. Couldn’t.

“Lance.” Frak, Coran, stop. Please stop asking. “Lance, I know you can’t tell us everything. But is there anything you can tell us? Anything at all?” the advisor asked.

His voice was gentle and without judgement. It was a question, not an interrogation. Maybe that’s what made the tension in Lance’s shoulders ease slightly.

“Please stop asking me, Coran,” Lance whispered, still not lifting his eyes to the advisor’s face.

He could feel the disappointment settle in the bridge and, strangely, he felt guilty. Why? Why would he feel guilty for refusing to betray the Galra Empire? Frell it all, he felt sick to his stomach.

 _:Worry:_ At least Chulatt was still with him. The little mouse had moved from Lance’s shoulder to the folds of his sleeves between his elbow and his chest. _:Worry. Calm.:_ There was no demand for answers from the tiny blue mouse, only concern and the sincere desire to calm a friend.

Lance lifted a finger and brushed Chulatt’s light blue fur seeking comfort in the softness. Chulatt snuggled into his brown sleeves, sending him broken pulses of _:worry:_ and _:calm:_ to him sporadically.

From her pedestal, the witch heaved a sigh. “Then it seems we’re on our own,” she declared. She tapped something on her holographic display and the command tower of the Hub flashed. “That command tower is where the main computers will be,” she said. “We seem to be lucky. The Hub isn’t too busy right now so I doubt the tower will be manned by more than a handful of guards.”

“Right,” Pidge said, typing away on her own display. “If this is a transport hub of some sort, maybe we can find out what exactly is being transported through here. With how well it’s hidden and the way Lance refuses to talk about it,” she shot Lance a flat stare, “then I think it’s safe to assume it’s classified.”

“Which means this could be worth the effort,” Shiro said, nodding. “Pidge, go get the Green Lion ready. Everyone else, suit up.”

“Coran, I want you to keep an eye on Lance, please,” the witch said.

Hey. He wasn’t a baby. He didn’t need to be watched.

But he wasn’t exactly a friend at the moment either, so…

“Are you going somewhere, princess?” Keith asked as the group made their way back to the lift.

“I’m coming with you,” Allura replied.

“What?” Hunk cried. “You can’t come with us.”

The witch huffed. “And why not?” she said in clipped tones. “I’m perfectly capable of defending myself. My father and I used to pass through Galra hubs like this one all the time.”

Lance highly doubted that.

“Maybe,” Keith said. “But this isn’t back then. This is now and now we’re in the middle of a war.”

“Keith’s right, your highness,” Coran said, standing and wringing his hands nervously. “It’s too dangerous.”

Oh boy.

“I do _not_ need your permission, Coran, Keith, Hunk,” the witch said, probably eyeing each of them as she named them off. “I’m going.”

“Fine,” Shiro said easily. “Suit up.”

Coran made a very strange noise and Lance couldn’t resist looking up to see what the advisor’s face looked like. The poor man’s mustache was fluttering as if it would fly away and the man’s purple eyes were wide with shock. In a word: priceless.

Lance snorted.

“HA!”

Lance jumped, whirling to stare at Keith.

“You _do_ snort,” the red paladin declared, a victorious grin on his face.

Ugh. Just for that…

“I’m going too,” Lance said, standing from his seat and glaring at Keith.

“Uh, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Shiro said, his uncertainty obvious in his face and voice.

Lance scoffed. “Like I’m going to let you all walk right through that hub’s doors with no idea what you’re getting yourselves into after you obliterated two Galra battlecrusiers full of innocent lives already-”

“We didn’t _know!”_ Pidge argued.

“-then you’re all more stupid than I thought you were,” Lance finished. He locked eyes with Keith and smirked. “Besides, someone needs to make sure you don’t accidentally get your smegs electrocuted again.” He winked. “Unless it’s by me, of course.”

Keith’s face burned and he practically vibrated with fury. Shiro groaned and placed a restraining hand on the red paladin’s shoulder, preventing him from doing anything stupid.

“The last thing you want is to pull something stupid here,” Lance added seriously, glancing at Shiro and the witch.

The black paladin straightened, eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?” he said.

Lance grimaced. “Just stay together and don’t do anything to attract attention,” he said.

Shiro held Lance’s gaze for a tick before nodding reluctantly. “Okay,” he said. “Consider us warned.”

“Come with me, Lance,” the witch said, gesturing to the lift. “We’ll get your paladin armor then meet the others at the Gr-”

“I’m not wearing your armor,” Lance said, tightening his grip on his arms. “Trust me on this.” He met Allura’s eyes evenly. “It’s best for all of us if I don’t.”

The witch hesitated but it was Pidge who asked, “So you’re going in that?”

“Unless you can find my Druidic robes and mask that _you_ broke,” he glared at Keith, “and I’m still upset about that, by the way,” he added, “then yes.”

Hunk scratched his head. “Well, we were able to save what was left of your robes,” he said, “but they’re all a bit torn up.”

“Where is it?” Lance asked, feeling Chulatt crawl up his shirt to sit in the mouse’s usual spot on his shoulder.

“We put it with your mask,” Coran said, drawing Lance’s blue gaze. “We weren’t able to fix it, I’m afraid. But we weren’t sure if you’d want it back or not, so we kept it.”

Well, that was good news. Lance was definitely sentimental and he had missed his hood. He wasn’t used to having to deal with others reacting to every emotion on his face. Still, with his mask broken and his robes torn, he would stand out from the other Druids.

Unless that’s what he _wanted_ to do.

His hand twitched as the idea hit him square in the face. Home. There was always a Druid posted at a Galactic Hub. If Lance could make contact, then maybe he could go home. But, he looked around the room, did he really want these people to be captured? Shiro was the Champion -even though Lance was finding it increasingly difficult to see that- and Lance had no doubt the man would be tossed back into the gladiator arena if he was captured. The others…

Lance bit the inside of his lip and sighed. “Get them,” he said to Hunk and Coran. “I’ll run interference if your caught.”

The corners of the advisor’s eyes softened and Lance caught the beginnings of a smile on Coran’s lips. Why did that make him feel warm inside?

“Why would you do that?”

Keith. Yes. Warm feeling gone.

“Because I don’t want to die,” Lance said in a flat tone. “And because, whether I like it or not, your continued survival means my continued survival.” He glanced at Pidge. “And we still have a truce and a common enemy.”

The green paladin blinked in surprise before nodding.

“I don’t like this,” Keith grumbled.

“Your opinion has been noted and ignored, Keithy-Keith,” Lance said, smirking when he felt the heat of the red paladin’s glare.

“Alright,” the witch said suddenly. “You can come. But stay close.”

* * *

“I still can’t believe you cut right through it,” Lance moaned, fingering the rough edges of the bone where the red paladin’s bayard sword had sliced it clean in two.

Keith rolled his eyes. Geez, did this guy ever shut up? He leaned closer to Pidge to get away from the incessant complaining.

“Got anything, Pidge?” he asked, casting a cursory look at the Galra gibberish flashing across the screen of Pidge’s computer.

“I will hurt you.”

Okay, backing up.

Hunk chuckled. “Don’t worry,” he said, patting Keith’s shoulder. “She gets like that. She doesn’t like to be rushed, is all.”

“Well, I hate to break it you, but we _are_ in a rush,” Keith said, glancing out the command tower’s window.

The huge Galra battlecruiser hung in the space above the landing platform suspended by large, dark, metal docking support beams. Their cover had nearly been blown when the thing arrived and opened a visual communication with the command tower. Only Hunk’s quick thinking with one of the downed sentries had saved their asses.

They’d been left alone after that, which was rubbing Keith the wrong way. This was just way too weird. There was no way a place as supposedly top secret as Lance implied this was would be this lax in their security.

He glanced at the Druid and yes, that was a subtle look at the landing platform below. It seemed Lance was more on edge about this mission than he let on. Keith’s frown deepened. If their resident sneak was concerned, then that meant they should be on their toes.

“Done,” Pidge said and everyone gathered around her.

“Good,” Shiro said, leaning close. “What’s it say?”

Pidge scanned the data and frowned. “Nothing,” she said in disbelief. “It’s nothing. Just arrival and departure times. The heck?” She tapped away on her keyboard in mounting frustration.

“Arrivals and departures?” Hunk asked. “You mean like at an airport or something?”

“Yeah.” Pidge leaned back and stared at her computer screen like it betrayed her. “It’s garbage.”

Hunk’s shoulders drooped and Keith groaned. “Great,” Keith muttered. “So this trip was a waste.”

The princess hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe not,” she said, looking up at the battlecruiser hovering outside. “Are there destinations in there with the departure times?”

Pidge’s eyes grew wide. “Why didn’t I think of that?” she muttered. She typed something into her computer and they waited for the results to pop up. Pidge made a sound of satisfaction. “Got ‘em. I’m not really familiar with these locations, but none of them look particularly important that I can tell.”

“What about that ship?” Allura asked, pointing to the battlecruiser outside. “Where’s it headed?”

“Hold on.” Pidge scrolled down. “Somewhere call ‘Central Command.’ Huh.” She sat back. “I take back what I said. That actually does sound important.”

“Then if there’s no intell here,” Shiro said, following the princess’s gaze, “then that means the important stuff is probably on that ship.”

Keith nodded. “Okay. So now the question is how do we get on the ship without anyone noticing?” he asked Shiro. “We can’t exactly walk through the front door.”

“Actually, that’s a good idea, Keith,” the princess said.

Keith blinked. “Um, no it isn’t? In case you haven’t noticed, princess, we kind of stand out in our colorful armor,” he said, gesturing to his bright red and white paladin armor.

Allura crossed her arms and shot him an unimpressed stare. “Which is why you have me,” she said. She smirked and _changed holy shit!_

What was with these aliens and crazy freaking powers? Since when did people just grow bigger and turn _purple?!_

“Woah,” he drawled, staring up at the princess’s taller, purple..er form in shock.

“Okay, did not see that coming,” Hunk said.

“That’s incredible,” Shiro breathed and Keith couldn’t help but give his oldest friend a weird look out of the corner of his eye.

“How do your clothes not tear?” Pidge cried, scrambling to her feet and staring up at the princess with wide, fascinated eyes. “Can you be multiple colors at once? Can you take forms other than humanoid ones?”

Allura lifted both hands to hold off the green paladin’s deluge of questions. “Em, well, they don’t tear because they’re designed to stretch like this, and no, only one color at a time, and no, only forms that are similar to the Altenoid body type.” She sighed wearily.

“Um,” Hunk spoke up, raising his hand and waiting for Allura to look at him, “I don’t want to be a Debbie-downer or anything, because that is super cool and all, but even with all the purple, you still don’t look like a Galra soldier.”

“Well, I’ll need a change of clothes,” Allura said, looking around. Her eyes settled on the bound and gagged Galra soldier slumped against one of the control panels lining the room. “I can wear his armor as a disguise,” she said, with a bright smile.

“You can’t go alone,” Shiro said, standing and _holy shit_ she was so much _taller_ than him _what the fuck?_ “I’m coming with you.”

The princess’s turquoise eyes narrowed in a glare. “I can handle myself, Shiro,” she snapped. “I’m not helpless.”

“That’s not what I meant,” the black paladin said, shaking his head. “We shouldn’t split up. Something about this place just puts me on edge.”

Keith blinked, sitting up straighter. So he wasn’t alone in that? Good to know.

“Besides,” Pidge added, grabbing Shiro’s arm and waving it at the princess. “You’ll need Shiro’s hand to access any Galra tech you come across. I’ll monitor your signals and any data you manage to download from here.” She pointed to her computer.

“You’ll need to be quick,” Keith said, standing. “In and out. The Galra may not notice something’s up immediately. But the longer you take, the bigger the chance of being caught.”

“Again, sorry to bring this up,” Hunk said, holding up a finger. “But has anyone thought about how we’re supposed to get Shiro in the ship?”

“Oh.” Keith pursed his lips. “Good point.”

“Yeah,” Hunk said, nodding. “My thoughts exactly.”

“Maybe Lance could help,” Allura said, turning to the Druid behind her.

Except, the Druid wasn’t standing behind her. The Druid wasn’t anywhere.

“Fuck,” Keith cursed, gritting his teeth angrily. “Bastard escaped.”

“Oh no. What if he reports us?” Hunk moaned.

“No alarms,” Pidge said, looking around the room for any flashing lights or indications of a silent alarm.

Shiro glared at the closed door leading out of the command tower’s control room. “That’s it,” he said. “I’m calling it. Everyone, back to the Green Lion.”

“No,” Allura said sharply. “We need this information.”

“Not at the expense of our safety,” Shiro said, meeting Allura’s eyes directly. “With all due respect, your highness, you made me the leader of Voltron. And while that doesn’t usurp your authority in any way, it does make me responsible for making sure everyone makes it back from every mission alive.”

“I understand that,” Allura said, raising her voice to talk over Shiro’s continued arguments, “but the fact remains that we’re entirely too far behind in both technology and information to fight Zarkon and the Galra on an even playing field right now. We _need_ this information, and I’m going to get it. The only question now is are you coming or not?”

Keith stood back and watched the power struggle between his friend and the princess. A quick look to his left showed Hunk and Pidge doing the same thing. Having two leaders on one team was never a good idea. And now that Lance _betrayed_ them -he growled furiously at the reminder- they needed to be more united than ever.

Movement out the window caught his attention and he looked down at the landing pad. A force field kept a breathable atmosphere surrounding the landing pad so anyone entering and exiting the ship could walk around and breath without a pressure suit or worrying about being instantly shot out into space.

It was a pretty interesting setup, if Keith was being honest. Imagine what they could do with this kind of technology back on Earth? NASA would have a field day with it and maybe even make some improvements. The tug of homesickness was brief but was nothing Keith couldn’t handle. He’d never had a real, permanent place to call home other than his shack in the desert. But he did miss Earth, if only a little… bit…

“Hey guys? You might want to come see this,” he said, glaring at a group of figures standing on the landing platform. “Check this out.”

Shiro and Allura leaned over Keith’s left shoulder while Hunk and Pidge leaned over his right shoulder.

“What is it, Keith?” Shiro asked.

Keith didn’t answer out loud, but he pointed down at two Galra soldiers pushing two large glass cylinders mounted on hovercarts towards a figure wearing long, voluminous brown robes that were eerily familiar.

“Is that Lance?” Hunk asked worriedly.

Keith shook his head but Pidge answered out loud. “No,” the green paladin said. “Lance’s clothes were all torn up. This guy’s are perfectly fine.” She adjusted her glasses and leaned closer to the window. “Besides, weren’t Lance’s clothes just light brown? Creepo down there’s clothes are darker with light brown trim.”

“True,” Hunk said.

“What’s in those containers?” Keith asked.

“Why don’t you take a look at that while Shiro and I try to sneak aboard the battlecruiser, Keith,” Allura said. “Pidge, Hunk, will you be okay up here?”

Hunk nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah,” he said quickly. “Well be fine up here. I’ll leave the adventuring to you and keep my adventuring confined to a D&D game, thank you.”

Pidge snickered. “Hunk’s right. We’ll stay here and keep an eye on you. Any data you get will be copied to my computer,” she said. “Keith, see if you can record anything you see. We may be able to use it later.”

Hunk grinned and gave Keith, Shiro, and Allura a thumbs up. “Yep. We’ll be your eyes in the sky.”

Keith looked at Shiro who nodded grimly. “Alright,” the black paladin said. “Let’s get this over with guys.”

Without another word, Keith followed Shiro and Allura out of the control room before peeling off the follow the creepy Lance-look-a-like. He was going to kill Lance when he saw him again, he seethed.


	24. Collection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lance is so close and Keith is too far.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** I am not a nice person. I know this. I accept this. I am proud of this. ^_^
> 
>  **P.S.:** I'm exhausted so I'll edit this tomorrow as usual. Night~ Sleep well~ *snickers*

Home. Home. _Home!_ He wanted to go _home._ This was his chance. The moment he saw the Master Druid standing on the landing pad collecting the canisters of quintessence, he knew this was probably the one and only chance he’d have to see his home again. He should have thought about this more before acting. But he just…

He just…

He just wanted to go home.

But here, leaning against the dark metal walls of the dimly lit hallway, he suddenly didn’t know what he wanted. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t decide. Every time he would mentally force himself to make a decision, he would start walking in that direction, only to second guess himself and tumble back into the spiraling abyss of anxiety.

He could not decide!

He wanted to go home. _So go home._ Two steps towards the refining chamber where he knew he would find the Master Druid. _But what about Coran and Keith and the others?_ Stop moving, start shaking. He had a truce. He shouldn’t break it. He should go back. _So go back._ Two steps back to the command tower. _But if he went back, would he ever get to go home again?_ Stop moving, and start shaking.

Again and again. Over and over until he fell to his knees clutching his head and squeezing his eyes shut. He couldn’t think. He could not _think!_ He couldn’t decide! Someone, _anyone_ , tell him what to do. Please. He needed to be told. He couldn’t decide. He was stuck. Someone decide for him.

Tears slipped between his shut eyes, sliding down his cheeks as he gasped for breath. So dizzy. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t cry. He needed to breathe in order to cry. He was so scared. What to do. Just make up his mind! That’s all he had to do. Make a decision and stick with it.

But he couldn’t. His mind kept spiraling deeper and deeper into indecision until he curled up and pressed his forehead to the floor, unable to even move beyond gasping for air. His head was pulsing and he still couldn’t get enough air in his lungs. He was suffocating while surrounded by perfectly breathable air.

Pathetic.

_:Worry! Friend! Not alone. Ease. Calm. Here. Slow!:_

Chulatt. Chulatt was here. Chulatt was _here_. Chulatt was someone else. Lance couldn’t make up his mind. Chulatt could. Chulatt could think clearly. Chulatt could tell him what to do.

But Chulatt was biased towards the witch and her people. Chulatt would want him to go back to the others. Chulatt couldn’t be trusted. Not with this.

Blue? A soft purr and ripple of cool water trickled into his frantic mind, freezing his muscles, forcing his movements to slow. He still couldn’t _breathe_ but he wasn’t gasping anymore. Even though he _needed_ to be gasping because he still couldn’t _breathe!_ But slowly, slowly, to the soft, soothing rhythm of _:not alone:_ and _:calm:_ and Blue’s continuous purring and chilling influence, the dizziness began to fade.

He still couldn’t think clearly or make a frakking _decision_ but at least he was no longer in danger of fainting from lack of air. And Blue never stopped purring and mentally nudging his sense of self, enveloping his mind in her cold frost. She loved him. She was here for him in spirit if not physically. She would never stop loving him. No matter what.

“Please,” he whispered, so softly he wasn’t completely sure he really said it out loud. “Tell me what to do. Blue, please. Please.”

She didn’t answer. This wasn’t her decision to make and that _hurt_. But no matter what choice he made, she wouldn’t stop loving him and would not choose another paladin to fly her. He was hers, and she was his. Lance shivered, his thoughts no longer whirling around endlessly in his head.

_:Look. Listen. Decide.:_

Look? At what?

Footsteps.

_Frak!_

Fear sang through his veins, driving him into motion. He dove behind a nearby support beam and pulled his legs up to his chest, still shaking but hidden. Safe. For now.

There were three sets of footsteps. Two were metallic and rang through the hallway. But they weren’t as hollow sounding as a sentry’s boots. Galra soldiers then. The third set was soft, muffled by the subtle swish of fabric.

Master Druid.

The thought rang through his head, slicing through his indecision with a sharp longing. Master Druid. Lance didn’t know who this Master was. But a Master Druid was still a Master Druid.

Safe.

Home.

Chulatt made no noise, but nuzzled Lance’s throat and sending _:support:_ and _:friend:_ to him through their tenuous connection. Blue pitched her purr lower until it vibrated every nerve in Lance’s body. Finally, he twitched and slumped against the support beam.

She would not leave him alone, no matter how far he wandered. She would find him again and love him still. She would never let him go.

That should scare him. Why didn’t that scare him? Why did it…  _soothe_ him?

Because… Because he knew she would keep him safe.

Except for that one time she _cut off his quintessence_.

Blue gave him the closest equivalent of a kicked kitten whine and Lance felt awful. She hadn’t known it would hurt him. She really hadn’t. Quintessence shouldn’t  _do_ that to people. When she found out, when he told her, she gave it back to him.

She would _never_ do that to him again, ever. Now that she knew how it affected him… Never.

He forgave her.

She pushed her quintessence into his mind, draping over his sense of self like a waterfall: hiding, caressing, protecting, _loving._ She loved him and she would support him, on the Castleship or home.

Home.

He drew a shaking breath and centered himself. He wanted to go home. He would come back. Somehow. He would find her or she would find him. No matter what, they would find each other.

Calm.

His thoughts were no longer swirling in indecision. They threatened to come back, lingering on the ragged edges of his mind, but at least they’d calmed enough for him to make his decision and stick with it.

Home. He was going home.

Pushing himself to his feet, Lance leaned against the support beam, pressing his back against the cool metal. He tilted his head back, closed his eyes, and sighed. He was going home.

_:Home?:_

He nodded, absently reaching up and petting Chulatt’s tufted blue fur. He was going home. But he would be back. He promised. A tiny paw touched his scale and-

_:Hope. Towering white spires with glowing pale, pure turquoise of fresh Balmera crystals. Longing. Azure skies streaked with white Altenoid-made rings orbiting far above. Loss. Tiny fuchsia blossoms growing in a field of rolling fields. Home?:_

Too fast. Too much. So much. Stop. _Stop!_

Lance flinched, swatting Chulatt away from his scale, breaking the connection. _:Hurt!:_ He caught the tiny mouse before it fell off his shoulder onto the floor, closing his hands around the furry creature to hide it. With a steadying breath, he pulled Chulatt close, pressing his lips to the top of its tiny head.

“Don’t do that again,” he murmured. “It’s not… It’s um…”

_:Sorry. What is?:_

“It’s okay.” Not really, but whatever. “Just don’t do that again.” He flushed. “Doing that without permission is… well, rude.”

_:Shock! Sorry. Well?:_

Lance smiled. “Yes,” he said, nodded. “I’m well.” Relatively speaking.

Wait. What was that noise?

Lance turned and pressed himself close to the support beam, peaking his hooded head around the corner. He knew that sound. It was-

Red and white blazed down the hallway.

Keith! How had- How did- Quiznak! Lance couldn’t let Keith meet the Master Druid. The Master would engage and Keith did not understand the concept of holding back. The red paladin would either die or kill the Master Druid. It was far more likely that Keith would die but Lance didn’t want that to happen.

He wanted to zap that pretty smeg again, frell it all. No one was going to take that opportunity from him. Not even the red paladin himself.

“Hold on,” he whispered, tucking Chulatt back on his shoulder under his hood and darted out into the hallway.

It was clear aside from Keith racing ahead. Good. If Lance could sneak up behind Keith without the red paladin noticing, then maybe he could teleport ahead to the Master Druid. Lance had never been here before so he wouldn’t be able to teleport anywhere until he’d seen the place clearly, but a short jump shouldn’t be too bad. It was worth a try anyway.

Thankfully, Keith seemed to be completely focused on the Master Druid ahead of him, never once looking back over his shoulder. That made it really easy for Lance to tail him. He wondered absently if Keith was aware of that weakness.

Probably not.  

Oh well. All the better for Lance.

Until he recognized where they were and suddenly having Keith in the lead was _not_ a good idea. They were too close to the refinery. If Keith got there first…

Not going to happen. Lance stepped out into the middle of the hallway, braced his weight on his right foot, and teleported. He reappeared directly in Keith’s path, forcing the red paladin to skid to a stop in front of him.

“Lance?” Keith gasped. Lance blinked and the shocked expression on the red paladin’s face morphed into an angry snarl. “Where were you?” Keith demanded. “Why’re you blocking me? Move.”

“Go back, Keith,” Lance hissed, raising his left hand and drawing on his quintessence just in case.

Keith’s eyes widened. “Why?” he snapped. “What’re you hiding?”

“None of your business,” Lance said. “Go _back_ , Keith.”

Keith slid into an aggressive stance and Lance frowned. He didn’t want to fight. “Make me,” Keith challenged.

Well, if Keith was asking for it.

_:Don’t?:_

Sorry, little friend. But some things were necessary. Keith drew his bayard and leapt at Lance. Stupid mistake. Lance was far enough ahead to have the advantage. Crouching, he pushed off his dominant foot and teleported, reappearing close to Keith and sending a pulse of ice-laced quintessence into the red paladin’s gut.

He still got a good knock in the head from Keith’s bayard handle, but he managed to avoid the actual blade with a well-timed duck. He let Keith’s momentum carry the red paladin past him and, just because he could, he zapped that perfect smeg. Keith made a choked squeal sound and thudded inelegantly on the floor in a twitching heap.

“Sorry,” Lance said. He really was sorry, which surprised him, but he dismissed the feeling. “But I have to go. Trust me. You don’t want to follow me.”

He ran passed the fallen paladin, skipping when Keith lashed halfheartedly with his arms to catch his ankle, and ran down the hall.

Home. Home. Home. He was so close.

* * *

Lance was right about one thing. Keith didn’t want to follow him. But like hell Keith was going to let that stop him. He would out of spite.

Picking himself off the ground, Keith grabbed his bayard and ran after the Druid as fast as his feet could carry him. Something was up with this creepy base and Lance knew what it was. Keith was going to find out what it was and drag Lance back to the others kicking and screaming if he had to.

Unfortunately, even with his heavy robes Lance was fast and Keith was having trouble keeping up. For a very brief moment, Keith wished his bayard could change into something with a chord like Pidge’s. Oh the things he could do if he had a decent lasso.

Red growled in his mind and he soothed her with a thought. He preferred his sword, honest. He just missed roughing it with his lasso and his knife. That’s it. Red made a disgruntled noise but surged into Keith’s mind anyway, offering him her support.

Fueled by the Red Lion’s heat and energy, Keith activated his bayard and ran hard. He needed a break. Just a little one. Lance glanced over his shoulder to check Keith’s progress, and ended up tripping over his tattered robes, stumbling over his own feet.

Yes! Red roared in Keith’s mind at the satisfaction of a good hunt and the red paladin couldn’t hold back a growl of his own. Just a little closer and Lance would pay for betraying him and his team. He would _pay!_

Lance rounded a corner and Keith followed, dodging to the side just in time to avoid stepping on a moving conveyor belt and smashing face first on the floor. A cylinder of glowing purple stuff moved along the moving conveyor belt past Keith. What the hell? It looked a heck of a lot like those canisters of yellow glowing stuff from earlier, but this one was smaller. What in the world was going on here?

 _Shit!_ Lance!

Keith turned and ran parallel to the conveyor belt after Lance who now had a considerable lead. Damn that fucking bastard!

“Pidge,” he said. “I found Lance.”

 _“Good,”_ he heard the green paladin reply _. “Where are you?”_

“I’m not sure.” He took a moment to catch his breath. “I’m in the bowels of this place. I’m telling you, something weird’s going on here.”

 _“What do you mean?”_ Pidge asked.

 _“X-files weird or Scooby Doo weird?”_ Hunk asked.

Oh good. A show Keith was familiar with. “X-files weird,” Keith replied. “Remember those canisters of glowy yellow stuff?”

_“Yeah.”_

“Pidge, can you see what I’m seeing?” he asked.

 _“Yeah,”_ she said. _“Give me a sec. Gotcha.”_

“Check this out,” Keith said, deliberately looking at the next cylinder of glowing purple liquid moving down the conveyor belt past him. “Any idea what those are?”

 _“No,”_ Pidge said, sounding fascinated. _“I’ll run some tests. But if you can grab a sample, that’d be great.”_

 _“What is with the Galra and purple?”_ Hunk grumbled. _“I like that color, man.”_

Keith rolled his eyes and stopped talking to pick up speed. He rounded another curve in the hallway and was surprised to see a large room at the end of the hallway. He slowed his pace slightly, just in case. The last thing he needed was to run straight into a trap.

Unless this whole place was a trap.

Damn it, Lance.

Speaking of Lance, the crazy Druid ran into the room without pausing to consider the consequences and shouted what sounded vaguely like a muffled “Master!”

Gritting his teeth, Keith activated his bayard and burst into the room just in time to be blasted back by a bolt of purple-tinged lightning. He rolled to absorb some of the hard landing, hopping back to his feet with his blade at the ready.

“Master!” he heard Lance shout again.

Red roared and Keith agreed whole-heartedly. “You bastard!” he cried.

He raced to the young Druid with every intention of striking the fucker down. Then another lightning bolt streaked towards him from somewhere above him and he had to dodge to the side yet again. Skidding with the shock wave, Keith glared up at his new attacker and cursed. It was the Lance look-a-like. Robes, mask, the whole shebang.

Damn it. Two against one. Keith hefted his bayard blade and glanced between Lance and the bigger, newer threat. He knew from experience that facing Lance from a distance was a bad idea. Fighting in close quarters was the best way to go. If this new freak was anything like Lance than-

The creature vanished and Keith tensed, ready for it to reappear anywhere- _On the right!_ He turned on the balls of his feet and charged the creep, sweeping his blade down into _empty space! Fuck this shit!_ But he knew this move. Without waiting for a sound or tell of some sort, Keith spun around and swung his sword at whatever was right behind him.

Blood!

“Master!”

Keith could hear the fear in Lance’s cry but ignored it. He’d landed a hit on Big Creep. It wasn’t a significant wound, but it drew blood and that was all the Red Lion needed to send a raging wildfire of strength into Keith’s veins. Red loved the hunt just about as much as Keith did. It was a deadly dance of instincts fueled by the fire and the insatiable desire to _win!_ Because to win was to _live._

Big Creep staggered from the blow but it didn’t get very far before Keith began pressing his advantage. Slash, strike, downward sweep, stab, sla- _Shit!_

A blast a frigid air and tingling electricity struck him his armored chest, tossing him back through the air in a blinding flash of blue-white. Damn it. He’d forgotten about Lance. Stupid!

He landed on a ledge, his armor crashing against a glowing yellow canister, crushing it. His armor and helmet protected him from the shattered glass, but that would definitely leave a bruise. Pushing himself to his feet, he lifted his bayard and a long fingered, purple hand grabbed him _by the throat_ and _threw_ him up into the air.

He flailed for anything to grab, to hold onto, to keep from falling back down to his death, _anything!_ Then Big Creep was suddenly right in front him, hovering in midair. What the- Lance never did that!

 _“Keith!”_ Pidge shouted through his communicator. _“Are you alright?”_

 _“What is that thing?”_ Hunk cried.

Big Creep planted it hand on Keith’s red and white armored chest and blasted his clear across the room. This time, the broken glass from more glowing yellow canisters tore through his gloves and sleeve, slicing his hands and leaving strange purple marks in its wake.

“Pidge!” he grunted, gripping his bayard in one hand and his dented chest armor with the other. “I need an extraction. Now!”

 _“We’re on our way!”_ Pidge said. _“Just hang on. We’re getting Allura and Shiro.”_

“Make it quick,” Keith said.

His entire body ached from the abuse, but he would not lose. He would not let himself be captured. Big Creep materialized a yard or so away from him and he staggered to his feet only to fall back down when the floor _moved._ He was on a conveyor belt a good two stories above the room’s floor.

He glanced behind him and watched a cylinder full of the yellow liquid slide into a slot above an enormous transparent orb. What the hell was that? Purple and white lightning struck him in his chest plate, tossing him back into the cylinder, cracking it and covering himself in the yellow liquid.

Something sharp cut his hand and Keith had an idea. He slumped, pretending to be more hurt than he was and waited for Big Creep to get closer. His hands clenched his bayard handle and the shard of glass and he waited.

Almost.

Almost.

Now!

“Master!” Damn it, Lance. “Don’t!”

Too late.

Keith swung his bayard blade in a wide, sweeping arc that Big Creep just barely dodged. But Keith had expected that, which was why he lashed out with the glass shard in his other hand at the most logical place where Big Creep would dodge to.

Except Lance was suddenly _there_ and Keith _couldn’t stop._ Lance raised both hands, arms crossed in a defensive manner and the glass ripped through skin and muscle. Lance didn’t cry out so much as grunt and allow himself to be pushed back by the force of Keith’s attack.

What…?  Why…?

But Keith couldn’t see blue eyes through the broken, yellow eyed mask covering the upper half of Lance’s face. He could only see white teeth bared in a grimace and… purple skin? What…? Like Allura?

_“Duck!”_

Keith hit the deck, ripping the glass shard out of Lance’s arms just as the roof of the chamber caved in. Wind blasted through the room threatening to drag Keith up and out into space. But then the Green Lion’s huge head filled the hole and the wind eased off just enough for him to stagger.

 _“Keith!”_ Pidge shouted through the Green Lion’s loud speakers. _“Get in!”_

Keith didn’t need to be told twice. He got to his feet and booked it up the ramp in the Green Lion’s mouth. He paused when he reached the top of the ramp and looked back. Lance was still standing, arms still crossed and bleeding, but he was shaking and bleeding and Keith _hated_ it. A flash of light blue in the darkness of Lance’s hood caught Keith’s attention and the red paladin’s eyes widened.

Lance still had one of Princess Allura’s mice.

Then Big Creep was raising its hands to fire another lightning bolt at him and the Green Lion and Keith didn’t need to look anymore. “Pidge, get out of here. Now!” he shouted, climbing up into the Green Lion’s cockpit.

“Already on it,” Pidge said, pulling the Green Lion out of the building a split second before a bolt of purple-white lightning flashed through the space they occupied moments ago.

Once they were back in the relative safety of space, Keith heaved a sigh of relief. “Nice timing,” he gasped. “Where’s Shiro and Allura? Hi Hunk.”

“Dude,” the yellow paladin said, eyeing Keith up and down. “You look awful.”

Keith groaned. “Don’t get me started.”

“Where’s Lance?” Pidge said, piloting her Lion towards the departing Galra battlecruiser.

Keith frowned. “Long story,” he said. Scanning the sky through the Green Lion’s view screens, he noticed something floating nearby. “Is that them?”

Hunk nodded. “Yeah. They were able to get out in an escape pod right before we broke you out,” he said. “I hope those guys we left in there weren’t sucked out into space when we left.”

Keith wasn’t sure if he agreed. But he didn’t disagree.

Why? Why had Lance betrayed them? He thought they were finally beginning to… But he should have known. No one stuck around for long.

No one.

“We’ll push the pod into the Green Lion’s hanger in the Castle,” Pidge said, flying up to the escape pod and grabbing it with her Lion’s claws. “It’ll be safer that way.”

“Good idea.”

Damn it. This was all Lance’s fault. Why? Just… Just why?


	25. Decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lance goes somewhere he isn't sure he wanted to see again, meets someone he _never_ wanted to see _ever_ , and makes a decision that will define him for better or for worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** Sorry I didn't update last night. The UGA football game got me depressed and then I got a sinus headache that would not go away. I managed to write 1.5k but...eh, nowhere near enough for a decent chapter length. So I delayed posting this to today. 
> 
> Kudos to anyone who can guess where I'm getting the names of the planets in this chapter. They'll show up again in the future.
> 
>  **Side note:** I've noticed some confusion regarding the alien swear words in here so I'm posting them here with their origins and meanings in this story AU.  
>  Smeg \- From the old TV show _Red Dwarf_ ; vulgar word for butt; aka 'ass'  
> Frell \- From the TV show _Farscape_ ; closest equivalent would be 'hell' as in 'what the hell'  
> Frak \- From the TV show _Battlestar Galactica_ (original and reboots); equivalent would be something along the lines of 'damn'  
>  Quiznak \- Modern meaning (Lance's era) is 'fuck' but older meaning (Allura and Coran's era) is 'dang it'

It _burned!_ Say nothing. _:Pain?:_ His entire body was shaking. Say nothing. The roof collapsed and the refinery chamber began to decompress. _:fear!:_ Say _nothing!_ Keith was staring at him with wide, angry, _hurt_ eyes. _:leaving?:_ _Say nothing!_

He wouldn’t. But the tears pooling in his eyes were doing all the shouting for him. _:Worry!:_ Then Keith was running into the Green Lion’s open mouth and gone ticks before the Master Druid could fire quintessence lightning. The next thing Lance knew, he was being yanked up out of the room and nono _nono not going to happen. :Terror!:_

He groaned as he raised his burning arms and formed a blue-tinged barrier over the gaping hole in the ceiling. : _Relief. Worry.:_ The quintessence drain wasn’t too bad, nowhere near as bad as the Robeast’s attack back on the Balmera had been. But his torn arms were making it difficult to hold a steady flow of quintessence through his veins. He could feel it leaking through his wounds with his blood. _:Friend! Fear. Pain?:_

Then arms were wrapping around his waist, pulling him close to the Master’s body, and pulling him over the side of the elevated conveyor belt. But he trusted the Master wouldn’t let him fall. Lukewarm quintessence enveloped him like a damp blanket, seeping into his body through his open wounds, and joining his own quintessence in the barrier far above them. The blue-tinged white of his barrier started to bleed purple, and he almost dry heaved. _:Why?:_

But then his feet were on solid ground once more and the Master was dragging him towards the hall without looking back. The abrupt jolt broke his stance and concentration and his barrier vanished. Wind howled around them as it tried to rip anything not bolted to the floor out into the vacuum of space.

Then metal slammed against metal, sealing off the compromised refinery chamber, and he fell to his knees gasping. _:Safe?:_ Quintessence continued to drain from him with his blood, dripping to the floor and leaving him dizzy and disoriented. The pain was distant now leaving him numb and vaguely confused by the gaping wounds on the soft undersides of his arms. He should be screaming.

Say nothing.

He pressed his lips together, cutting off the whimper coiling in the back of his throat. Hands then pressed against his wounds and a lukewarm sensation blossomed from the jagged slices quickly becoming a blazing fire. It took everything he had not to scream in agony as the Master cauterized the wounds, preventing further blood and quintessence loss. If he lost too much blood and his heart stopped…

Lance shuddered, slumping when the pain finally ebbed. He said nothing, but his ragged breathing was evidence enough of his pain.

“You endured well, Apprentice,” the Master said, their voice muffled behind the bone mask. “Although, I am curious as to how you got here.”

He nodded. Right. He should probably explain. Words. He needed words. Why couldn’t he find the words?

“Name and charge, Apprentice,” the Master commanded and everything clicked into place.

“Apprentice Lance, Shields and Elementals,” he began, his voice hoarse from withholding screams. “Charged with the protection of Commander Sendak’s battlecruiser and all on board.”

The silence that followed was painful to his ears, emphasizing everything he’d failed to do.

“And where are your charges, Apprentice?” the Master asked. It wasn’t curt or cruel, but stern and imperative.

Lance shuddered and closed his eyes, bowing his head in acknowledgement of his failure. “Dead,” he whispered. “No survivors.”

“Except you.”

Fear tingled through his senses, but this fear was deserved. Lance had failed in his duty and he knew the punishment.

“Come,” the Master said, standing in a soft rustle of fabric. “Let us speak of this further in a more secure location.”

Lance shook his head. “The Green Lion-”

“Is unlikely to still be here,” the Master said, holding out a purple hand to help Lance up.

“And the quintessence,” Lance said, taking the offered hand and allowing himself to be hauled to his feet.

“There will always be more,” the Master said. “This is not the only Hub.”

Lance nodded. The Master was right. But all those canisters, all the hard work required to retrieve them and bring them here…

“Come.” The Master’s purple hand tightened around Lance’s own and drew him down the hallway, away from the demolished refinery. “We have much to discuss.”

* * *

 

Looking back on it, Lance should have known he would have ended up here. But he’d really hoped he could avoid this and just go home. He had Zarkon’s luck. Which was why he was standing at the foot of a battlecruiser’s landing ramp at Emperor Zarkon’s Central Command System waiting to be escorted to his official debriefing.

The Master Druid posted at the Galactic Hub had been kind enough to escort him as far as the battlecruiser before leaving him in the care of another Master. This one spoke even less than the previous one. Although, in their defense, the Master had not been given the chance to have more than a few precious moments of privacy to have a proper conversation with Lance.

Almost immediately upon setting foot in the battlecruiser, Lance had been confined to his quarters for the duration of their trip to the Central Command System. It was proper procedure to isolate a Druid until a full, formal debriefing was given to prevent distraction or possible coordination of stories. Not that Lance had much to hide in the way of his duties. He’d failed in every way he could possibly think of. Without exception.

Still, he had expected to be greeted by another Master the moment he stepped off the ramp. When he wasn’t, he hesitated, unsure of what to do or where to go. He had no charges to follow and protect, no Master to guide and command him, and no idea what to do about this.

Perhaps that was why he didn’t notice her arrival right away. However, when he did, he stiffened and fervently wished he had just died on Commander Sendak’s ship. Too little, too late.

“High Master,” he murmured, bowing deeply at the waist.

“Apprentice,” Haggar said, her voice hoarse from what Lance sincerely hoped was age and not something else. “We received a communication from a lone Druid on board the Castle of Lions a little more than a movement ago. Was that you?”

Lance hesitated. “It was, High Master,” he said, straightening but taking care to keep his eyes cast down in respect. “I regret my information is out of date.”

Haggar said nothing, so Lance took a chance and lifted his gaze to the High Master through the yellow eye slits in his mask. He could see her face and for a moment that caught him off guard. So it was true. The High Master must truly have Emperor Zarkon’s favor if she did not fear the repercussions of revealing her face. Still, it left Lance wondering how the strain of holding a shift for as long as she must would affect her mental and physical state. Could she even shift back to her birth form?

As if sensing him regarding her, Haggar’s glowing eyes narrowed and Lance could swear she was looking directly at his hidden eyes. Chulatt snuggled silently against the back of his neck, hopefully hidden in the darkness of his hood. Lance felt his pulse ease with the brush of soft fur and sent his best sense of _:silent:_ and _:hidden:_ to the little mouse.

Haggar hummed and Lance did not flinch as she turned her back to him.

“Come,” she said. “The Emperor wishes to hear your report himself.”

Quiznak.

“Yes, High Master,” he said, mildly impressed that his voice didn’t waver. Chulatt pawed the back of his neck, but otherwise remained still and quiet, hidden. His little secret.

Falling into step a few paces behind High Master Haggar, Lance lifted his head so his broken mask stared straight ahead. Behind the bone and glowing slits, Lance’s blue eyes were darting around the base towards the force field windows. Emperor Zarkon’s Central Command System was enormous, spanning a significant portion of the two gas giants’ gravitational influence.

The Central Command ship itself hung at the center of the four gigantic rings. The largest ring looping furthest away from the Central Command ship connected to the Galra-built shell partially surrounding the red and yellow atmosphere of the largest gas giant, Muspwel. The third ring from the Central Command ship whirled through space, connecting to the semi-encompassing shell surrounding the smaller gas giant, Nilfve.

The shells encircling Muspwel and Nilfve were designed to tap into the thermal energy naturally created by the planets to provide power for the Central Command System. Although the thermal energy did not provide enough power for the entire Central Command to operate, it did allow the megastructure rings to be mostly self-sustaining.

Without a star to anchor them, Muspwel and Nilfve orbited each other with the Central Command ship nestled in the planets’ center of gravity, safe from collision and close enough to allow continuous observation of the system. Two more rings existed but they were close enough to the Central Command ship and the planets’ center of gravity to avoid being yanked apart by tidal forces or dragged towards one of the planets.

It truly was a marvel. Most of the noncombatant Galra-born citizens of the Empire dwelt here in the System’s rings. The common belief that they were safe from attack had long ago taken root in the people’s hearts. But with the return of the weapon Voltron, Lance wasn’t sure that belief would remain untested for much longer. If a battle occurred here before the Solar Shield could be erected, then the loss of life would be astronomical.

Lance didn’t think he could stomach the idea. If it became a reality…

Please don’t become a reality.

At least, if it did become a reality, most of the active Druids not out on duty protecting battlecruisers were here in the Central Command ship. If anyone tried to attack, Lance knew the Druids, the High Master, and the emperor would be safe. If only the emperor wasn’t here.

Quiznak him.

_:Curiosity?:_

Schooling his thoughts to prevent leaking any lingering surprise he still felt when Chulatt brushed his mind, Lance focused on the hall in front of him. The door at the end of the hallway opened at the High Master’s command and Lance followed her inside, pausing in shock.

This was the emperor’s throne room. Lance looked around him as covertly as he could, trying to contain his awe. Force field windows and view screens covered the chamber walls. The room itself was enormous and each footstep was swallowed by the sheer size of it.

“Emperor Zarkon,” the High Master said in greeting.

Lance stiffened, lifting his masked eyes to the being seated on the throne. Immediately, he dropped to one knee, a clenched fist pressed to his chest. He may not respect the emperor, but he did fear him.

“I bring the Druid who reported Commander Sendak’s death from the Castle of Lions,” the High Master continued. And frell, wasn’t that an introduction. Frakking frell.

_:Terror! Run.:_

Lance forced his breathing to remain calm and even, soothing Chulatt’s intense fear. He could feel the tiny mouse shivering against the back of his neck. The poor thing. While he was glad Chulatt hadn’t left him, he still felt responsible for exposing his little furred companion to the two most powerful people in the known universe.

“Your name and charge, young Druid,” the emperor commanded.

Lance opened his mouth to speak when he suddenly felt his hackles raise. Quintessence not his own tingled across his skin, slithering into his pores like oil. It made him feel dirty and disgusting. He had never felt quintessence like this before. It made him want to throw up as his body rejected it.

“Apprentice Lance,” he forced himself to reply, refusing to rub himself where the oily sensation was strongest. “Charged with the protection of Commander Sendak and all those aboard his battlecruiser as my final Apprentice Trial.”

The foreign quintessence oozed through him making it difficult to breathe. Why was this? He felt his own frozen quintessence surge to protect him, to stop the murky intrusion from spreading. But he held it in check. If he was right, this quintessence belonged to the High Master. Haggar was likely testing him for lies and deceptions. If he resisted her, even by accident, then she could take offense and he didn’t want to think of the consequences of such a grave mistake.

Still, if this was the High Master’s quintessence, why did it feel so… nauseating?

“I was told Voltron did not make an appearance before arriving at Balmera 95-Vox,” Emperor Zarkon rumbled, his deep voice sending chills down Lance’s spine. “Though I find it hard to believe such a skilled commander could have failed to defeat the grounded Castle of Lions.”

Lance winced. “The Voltron Lions destroyed the battlecruiser,” he said. His first failure.

He could feel the emperor glaring at him through the torn fabric of his hood and the broken bone of his mask. He did his best not to shudder.

“How many?” the emperor demanded.

“Three, great Emperor,” Lance replied. “The Red, Green, and Yellow Lions. There was also a small pod involved. Although it did not cause as much damage as the Lions, I believe it was piloted by Sh- the Champion.” _Stupid!_ He slipped.

“What makes you say that?” High Master Haggar murmured.

“Because the Champion could not join the fight until he unlocked the Black Lion,” Lance replied.

He looked up through his mask’s eye slits and saw the High Master turned to the emperor before returning her gaze to him. “Continue,” she commanded.

Lance took a deep, steadying breathe. “Commander Sendak, Subcommander Haxus, myself, and a few sentries managed to survive the battlecruiser’s destruction,” he said. “We staged a takeover of the Castle of Lions, but one of the paladins sabotaged the commander’s plans and killed Subcommander Haxus.” His second failure.

“And yet you live.”

A simple statement. But when spoken by the emperor, it carried so much weight.

“Yes,” Lance whispered. “I saw the saboteur and tried to warn the subcommander, but he ignored me. The paladin managed to overload the Castle’s turbine, sending a pulse of electricity into the metal platform Subcommander Haxus and I were standing on, electrocuting us.” His shoulders twitched. “The paladin didn’t see me and killed the subcommander alone. Before I regained consciousness, the paladins had already won back the Castle.”

“How did you remain undetected?” Haggar demanded.

Her oily quintessence pushed against his own, testing his self-control. In the back of his mind, he could have sworn he heard a distant rumble. Then frost began forming in his veins, slowly forcing the oily quintessence back him before he could rein it in. The High Master tilted her head as if studying a particularly fascinating subject for her Robeast project.

“I hid in the Castle’s vents for at least a movement,” Lance answered simply, pretending to ignore the High Master’s interest. “I sent my message to Commander Prorok’s communication codes as soon as I was able to. Unfortunately, by the time the Castle reached the Balmera, all of the Voltron Lions were active and the Galra fleet stationed there was destroyed.”

Haggar’s yellow eyes narrowed and her dark quintessence pressed his once more, testing and prodding. “I have touched your quintessence before,” she mused. “It blocked an attack from my Robeast.”

Lance paled. Frak, she remembered him. He quickly ducked his head and attempted to soothe his racing heart. “Yes, High Master,” he said. Do not lie. She’ll know. “Had your Robeast completed its attack, I would have been killed.”

“And you chose to live rather than allow the sworn enemy of the Galra Empire to die,” the emperor said.

Oh frell.

“They found me on the Castle,” he said, stumbling over his words. He didn’t want to die. “I convinced them to let me live. I thought, live now, learn what I could, and escape later.” Not enough. It wasn’t enough. “They didn’t believe me. I had to do something to convince them.”

Haggar’s gaze remained cold and narrow as her quintessence slid over his own like a sickening sleeve. “Your quintessence has changed,” she murmured thoughtfully, like a scientist commenting on an experiment. “There is another…”

She trailed off and Lance focused on resisting her attempts to encompass his sense of self with her oil slick. It was getting hard to breathe. He was sweating despite being ice cold and clammy. He shuddered, forcing himself to breathe in and out.

“What is it Haggar?” the emperor asked. There was no anger or distrust in Zarkon’s voice that Lance could detect, only mild interest. Which was somehow worse.

Haggar’s quintessence retreated and Lance sighed as ice moved through his veins freely once more. Then oil surged into his body, choking him as it seeped into his pores and gripping his quintessence in an unforgiving, iron hold. His entire body locked up, unable to move as his quintessence struggled to free itself from the High Master’s unyielding grasp.

Locked. Imprisoned. Taken away. No. No, he would not let that happen again. Never again. Let go. Dear ‘Verse, let him go. Help. _Blue!_

_:Mine!:_

The thought rang through his mind like a chime, if a chime could be a deafening roar of vicious possession. The air around him cooled dramatically as his veins turned to supercooled liquid, freezing him from the inside out. Frost spiraled over his skin as _she_ took her rightful place draped over his sense of self and forced the High Master’s filthy influence from him with a blast of arctic air.

He was barely aware of the High Master’s cry of shocked pain amidst the rush of cold and hoarfrost and rime and ice that was _Blue!_ Here. She was _here!_ And she was not at all happy about someone else attempting to influence _her_ paladin.

She was _here?!_ How did she get here? How did she even know where here _was?_   Where was she? Blue?

He caught himself as his body began to slump and oh he could move? Blue eased her frigid quintessence back from him enough to clear his head, but remained just below the surface of his consciousness seething in fury. Frell. She’d freed him. He could feel his own quintessence flowing again, rushing to his heart with his blood and pumping through his veins freely. She’d freed him.

He shivered.

“How long have you been the paladin of the Blue Lion?”

Now Lance shivered for an entirely new reason. Chulatt made a soft sound accompanied by _:Fear. Hope?:_ and Lance gasped. He could work with this. He could work around this. Think! Zarkon knew about Blue. So tell him.

“She claimed me when the crew of the Castle found me and fought me,” he said. Swallowing back his fear, he lifted his head and looked straight at the emperor. “They let me live because she chose me. They thought I would break my oath to the Empire.”

The doors behind him burst open and Commander Prorok ran in. “Emperor Zarkon! The Lions of Voltron have been detected in the Central Command System.”

The emperor stood, regarding Lance with his unfeeling violet eyes. Ice touched his mind strengthening his confidence. Lance feared Zarkon. But as terrified as Lance was, he wanted Zarkon dead more. However, Lance also valued his oaths and would do anything within his power to uphold them. The Blue Lion purred deep within his sense, vibrating his lingering fear until it fractured and fell away.

She supported him. She loved him. She _came_ for him. She would _always_ come for him. He was hers _._ Not Emperor Zarkon’s, not High Master Haggar’s, not even the paladins’. He was _hers._ His oaths to protect the Galra Empire, the noncombatants, the Druids, the innocents, his people… She would do everything within her power to help him keep those oaths.

Together they could get rid of Zarkon and defend the noncombatants of the Galra Empire. Together they could free the worlds from unwanted servitude. Free the slaves, Galra, Altean survivors, innocents, noncombatants, everyone. Without exception.

Together they could free the Altean survivors from their bonds to the emperor.

Together. As Voltron. They could free his people.

Free?

His heart ached. Freedom was a lie.

Wasn’t it?

Ice. No. It wasn’t. She could show him. Together they could show his people. Together they could protect and free his people. Together they could keep his oaths.

Together. As Voltron.

“Whom do you serve, paladin of the Blue Lion?” Emperor Zarkon said.

He just wanted to go home. He wanted to be safe. But he was beginning to see there was no such thing as ‘safe.’ Nowhere was safe. Lance’s people were bound to Zarkon by debt and oath and loyalty. Home was not safe. As long as Zarkon lived, Vuana would never be safe.

And now that Zarkon knew he was the Blue Lion’s paladin, Lance would never be safe. It broke his heart, but Lance knew if he went home now, he would just bring danger to their hidden world. He would sooner kill himself.

But he didn’t want to fight against everything he believed in.

Then don’t. Don’t fight the Galra Empire. Fight Zarkon. Free the empire of Zarkon.

Freedom was a lie.

But it was a lie he wanted to believe in.

Lance pushed the hem of his hood back and removed his broken mask from his face and laid it on the floor before him. The Blue Lion purring encouragement in his mind, he lifted his Galra gold eyes and met Emperor Zarkon’s unfeeling violet without fear. This wasn’t breaking his oaths. He knew that now. This was _keeping_ his oaths.

He served the Galra Empire. He was loyal to the Galra Empire.

He raised a clenched fist over his chest and held it there. “I am a loyal servant of the Galra Empire,” he declared truthfully.

Not Zarkon. Never Zarkon. That would never change. Blue purred and nuzzled his sense of self. She was proud of him. She would never leave him.

She was coming for him.

“Vrepit sa,” Lance said without regret.

The emperor grinned, his scaled lips peeling back revealing teeth yellowed by an unnaturally long life. His unnatural violet eyes glowing.

“Then rise,” the emperor said, his unwavering gaze holding Lance’s shifted yellow.

Lance stood as commanded, feeling little Chulatt cling to the back of his neck with its tiny paws.

“Commander Prorok,” the emperor said, without releasing Lance from his unnatural gaze. “Raise the Solar Shield and launch all fleets. Engage the Lions of Voltron.”

“Great Emperor,” the commander said, “if the Lions form Voltron within the Central Command System, the casualties would be-”

“They won’t,” Zarkon said firmly. “They are down a paladin.” Lance would not flinch.

“V-vrepit sa!”

Lance listened to the Galra commander practically flee the throne room, unable to look away from the emperor’s gaze. Blue purred in his mind. She was coming.

Zarkon drew a black and white device from his side, fingering it. “Druid.” Lance tilted his head in acknowledgement, unblinking eyes still shining Galra gold from under his hood. “If you are truly loyal to the Galra Empire, then call the Blue Lion.”

Lance hesitated. “Sire?”

Poisonous violet narrowed dangerously. “That was a command from your Emperor and the rightful paladin of the Black Lion.”

What?

“Call the Blue Lion,” Zarkon commanded, voice firm and powerful. “Unless you wish to suffer the same consequences as the foolish Witch of Altea.”

_Erk!_

Swallowing the fear the Blue Lion could not smother, Lance bowed. “Vrepit sa.”

Blue, if you hear this, do _not_ come! _Stay away!_


	26. Extraction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lance delays, gets yanked around, meets an unexpected ally, and gets an ungraceful extraction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** I'm so exhausted posting this. I haven't edited it yet because I'm tired and am fighting a cold and just suffered through the worst period cramps I have ever had in my entire life. Bar none. So I'm going to sleep in preparation for a 7:30am wake up call for work tomorrow. Oh boy... Hope y'all enjoy this chapter though. I liked writing it.

She’s here. She’s _here!_ But _where?_

Lance was practically shaking with nervous energy. Yet, despite how fast his heart was racing and how frantically his thoughts slid from one to the other, he was somehow outwardly calm. It was a strange state to be in and Lance couldn’t help tilting his hooded head ever so slightly as he considered it. He was more than scared, terrified fit best, but his body seemed focused on keeping all signs of his terror tightly bound inside.

In his mind, he was back on Commander Sendak’s doomed battlecruiser watching the Lions of Voltron picking it apart piece by piece with him on board. It was as if his mind took a step back from the situation and just observed while his body panicked.

_:Fear! Escape. Princess.:_

Chulatt was quivering in the darkness of Lance’s hood, silent to everyone but Lance. The poor mouse’s fear was a constant thread of thought through the back of Lance’s mind, spiking whenever High Master Haggar or Emperor Zarkon came close. Unfortunately, with the Emperor and the High Master standing at the front of the Central Command ship’s bridge, little Chulatt’s fear was distractingly intense.

And why was Chulatt constantly thinking about the witch? What did the witch have to do with this? Granted, she must be nearby if the Lions of Voltron were within the Central Command System attacking those Galra battlecruisers. But that still didn’t explain the tiny mouse’s obsession with her.

Unless… Could Chulatt sense her? Lance knew the witch had some sort of mental link to the four Altean mice and that her link was stronger than his own, but Lance’s link was limited by distance. If the witch’s link was also limited by distance, which would make sense, then she would have to be relatively close by for Chulatt to sense her.

The Lions were most likely too far away and Lance couldn’t even see the Castle of Lions. Subcommander Thace couldn’t detect the Castle of Lions with the sensors either. That meant either the Castle was hidden somewhere in the Central Command System or it simply wasn’t here. Which didn’t make sense at all.

Which left the possibility that the Castle of Lions _was_ hidden somewhere in the Central Command System. But where would…

_:Princess! Escape. Lance.:_

He stiffened. His name. When did little Chulatt start calling him by name? It… Warmth bloomed in his heart and he felt his lips quirk upwards at the corners. Chulatt thought of him… by name. That was so sweet.

_:Fond. Friend. Princess. Escape.:_

Lance hesitated. Why so much emphasis on the witch? She was out of Lance’s reach. He couldn’t do anything about-

“How many Lions have been detected, Commander Prorok?” the emperor said.

The commander turned to Subcommander Thace who quickly checked the red displays for a confirmation before responding. “I only see four Lions, Emperor,” the subcommander said, his forehead creased in concentration.

“Which ones?”

“Red, Green, Yellow, and Black, your majesty,” Thace replied promptly.

Zarkon turned his head just enough to shoot a sharp violet eyed glare at Lance. “Where is the Blue Lion?” the Emperor said.

Lance flinched at the calm tone, ducking his head submissively. He reached out to the Blue with his senses. He could feel her rage and frustration and hear her roar deep in his mind. She was trying to get to him, but she couldn’t. Something was stopping her, preventing her from leaving wherever she was. Where was she?

“Forgive me,” Lance said. “She’s trying to come to me, but she can’t. Something is preventing her from following my orders.”

Zarkon’s eye narrowed dangerously and Lance’s breath stuttered. Harder. Try _harder._ He closed his Galra gold eyes and reached, tangling his senses with hers as close as he dared. Where was she? What could possibly be stopping her from coming to him?

Rage. Icy and fierce as a glacier. The door. The door would not open. They wouldn’t let her out. Her paladin was _so close_ but they would not let her go to him. She was furious and roared, scraping the floor of her hanger with her claws, tearing jagged holes in the metal.

“She’s in the Castle of Lions,” Lance said. “They won’t open the hanger door to let her out.”

She could rip the hanger door apart and get out that way, but doing so could compromise the Castleship’s hull endangering anyone left inside.

“Call the Blue Lion here,” Zarkon commanded. “No matter what it takes.”

 _Erk!_ “Vrepit sa,” Lance said, bowing deeply at the waist.

Do not come, Blue. Stay away. Please. _Please_ beautiful. Stay away.

 _:No!:_ Lance shuddered as her roar of defiance left a thin lining of hoarfrost over his sense of self. She would _not_ leave him alone. She swore an oath to protect her paladin. She would help him keep his oaths. Would he stop her from fulfilling hers?

Lance blinked, startled by the voracity of her response. The sheer intensity of the Blue Lion’s presence froze Lance’s fears into icicles, dangling from the strands of his consciousness. Any lingering doubt was frozen and forced out of his mind like delicate frost flowers that melted with a single breath.

Lance didn’t need to see through the Blue Lion’s eyes to know she had broken her hanger door down and was _coming!_

“She’s coming, Emperor,” Lance said, opening his eyes.

“Subcommander,” Zarkon said.

A new signal pinged from a large target advancing through the Central Command System and Subcommander Thace nodded. “Confirmed, your Majesty,” he said. “I have the Blue Lion on our scopes.”

The Emperor’s scaly mouth lifted in a smirk. “Well done, Druid,” he said.

Unable to find a suitable verbal response, Lance bowed once more.

“I do not expect a delay next time.”

Fear tingled through Lance’s nerves at the Emperor’s words. “There won’t be,” he said, straightening.

“Emperor Zarkon,” Commander Prorok said, stepping forward. “All of the Lions of Voltron are accounted for.”

“Good. Engage the solar barrier, commander,” Zarkon commanded.

What? Lance’s eyes widened. No. Attacking the Voltron Lions in such a densely populated area as the Central Command System was dangerously stupid. One stray ion canon could damage one of the orbiting rings injuring thousands of noncombatants. With the solar barrier raised, neither the Voltron Lions nor the innocents caught in the crossfire could escape. The Emperor wouldn’t dare…

“Attack with all our forces,” Zarkon said.

By the Encompassing Universe. He would. The blood drained from Lance’s face, leaving him numb with shock.

“Sire, the Black Lion,” the High Master said.

“Leave the Black Lion to me,” he said, turning to leave the bridge.

What? Lance frowned, glancing curiously at the emperor. How did Zarkon plan to get the Black Lion from the paladins in one functional piece?

“Druid.”

“Emperor,” Lance answered with as much respect as he could muster.

Unnatural violet eyes pinned Lance making his skin crawl. “Bring the Blue Lion to the main hanger and await my orders.”

Lance bowed. “Vrepit sa.”

He waited until the Emperor left the bridge before straightening and breathing a soft sigh of relief. He took one last look out the force field window, scanning the space for the Blue Lion. When he spotted her, he felt hope surge back into his chest like a cresting wave. She was streaking straight for the Central Command ship, straight for _him._

_:Mine.:_

She was coming. But what would he do when she got here?

_:Princess! Escape!:_

Lance sighed through his nose sending _:doubt:_ and _:confusion:_ to Chulatt as he turned to follow the emperor off the bridge. He didn’t miss the odd look Subcommander Thace shot him, but he didn’t let it bother him. His new Master Druid robes did make him stand out.

The robes were just as heavy as his Apprentice robes had been, but the stripes of light brown denoting his new status made him feel uncomfortable. He wasn’t given a new mask yet, but, to be honest, the new robes were almost too much. He would still be an Apprentice in his mind until a Master Druid formally gave him his new rank, but the Master rank robes certainly did their job.

Galra soldiers walking towards him in the hallways took one look at Lance’s robes and not so subtly picked up their pace to pass him. Galra soldiers who stepped into the hallway he currently strode down, immediately stepped back into whatever room they’d left from and stayed there until Lance was out of sight.

It was disconcerting. As an Apprentice Druid, Lance had been accustomed to the wariness of the Galra, but he wasn’t sure how he felt about the blatant fear his Master Druid robes garnered.

_:No fear. Friend. Princess! Escape.:_

Again with the witch, Lance groaned, rolling his eyes under his hood. Chulatt was obsessed with the witch. The sting of jealousy was both unexpected and odd. Lance knew Chulatt had been friends with the witch before ever meeting him, but constantly being reminded of the witch’s presence was grating. Wasn’t he enough?

It was selfish and petty, and he knew it. But that didn’t stop him from feeling the jealousy working its way into his mind.

 _:Mine!:_ Blue? _:Near.:_

Picking up his pace, Lance made his way down through the Central Command ship towards the main hanger as quickly as he could. No matter what he ended up doing after the Blue Lion arrived, he needed to be sure no one loyal to Emperor Zarkon touched her.

Pleasure and pride rippled through his mind with the Blue Lion purr. She wouldn’t let anyone by him touch her. That was a welcome relief. But the irony tinging the Blue Lion’s amusement heralded something Lance wasn’t sure how to take. What was so funny?

Did he really think she was going to fly right through Emperor Zarkon’s front door when she was perfectly capable of making her own door?

Lance froze midstride as the full implications of the Blue Lion’s thoughts smacked him in the face. She was coming all right. She was coming right to him. Literally. Well quiznak, that changed a few things. Frantically, Lance wracked his brain for any place in the Central Command ship where a hull breach wouldn’t cause much of a problem.

Then Chulatt squealed and yanked his right ear. The unexpectedness of the sound accompanied by its high pitch and proximity to his ear made him flinch and cry out, pressing his ringing ear to his shoulder.

“Frell, what was that for?” he whined. His ears were too sensitive for that kind of noise.

_:Princess! Escape! Now!:_

Chulatt yanked his right ear again forcing Lance to tilt his head in that direction. Did the mouse have to grab so close to his piercing? That hurt.

“What do you wan-?”

He paused, looking where Chulatt was pointing. There was a hallway branching off to the right. Lance frowned and glanced at the fluff ball of light blue fur now perched on his shoulder. He took one careful step down the branching hall and Chulatt cheered.

Lance huffed. “Okay then.” He’d go this way.

_:Princess! Hurry.:_

Wait. What? Why?

“The witch is  _here?”_ he hissed to the little mouse.

Chulatt’s head bobbed up and down so fast it blurred in Lance’s vision. Frak. That explained so much. Why the Voltron Lions showed up at Central Command of all places and why Zarkon mentioned her in the first place.

Lance froze. Was this a test? It had to be. It was the only thing that made sense. Zarkon would never trust an Apprentice Druid on word of mouth alone. Even with the High Master’s confirmation that Lance had spoken the truth. It was too easy. Nothing was ever easy. Unless it was a test.

Or a trap.

If the witch was indeed on the Central Command ship, then she was likely locked in the brig on the opposite side of the ship from the hanger. If Lance went to the hanger and not the brig, then he would probably pass the test. But if he went to the brig…

Then what? If he freed the witch, where would they go? They didn’t have a ship to escape… on…

Except they did. Blue was coming and she would _make her own door._

Better find the right place to build an appropriate door then. Not bothering with decorum, Lance gathered up the heavy fabric of his borrowed Master Druid robes and ran down the hall. Any Galra who saw him fled. A running Druid was _never_ a good thing. Except now.

He was failing Zarkon’s test, but he didn’t give a flying quiznak. He swore an oath to protect the Galra Empire and Zarkon was endangering innocent, noncombatant Galra citizens with his arrogance. Engaging the Voltron Lions inside the Central Command System _with the solar barrier raised?!_

Despica-

 _“Ow!”_ he hissed, slapping a hand to his aching ear and glaring at Chulatt. “Stop yanking my ear. That hurts.”

The little mouse met his golden gaze and waved a paw to his left. They were in the brig in the lowest section of the Central Command ship.

“You could have just said so,” Lance grumbled, still rubbing his ear. Frell it all, Chulatt had almost ripped his piercing out that time.

Several sentries posted nearby did not acknowledge his presence as he made his way through the brig. He would have to get rid of them. But first…

“Sentry,” he said to the first robot he came to. “Which cell is the Witch of Altea being held in?”

“There is no one listed in this section by that designation,” the sentry replied in a monotone.

“Frell, don’t make me do this,” Lance muttered under his breath. Louder, he said, “Which cell is the… princess of Altea being held?”

The sentry lifted its weapon to a ready position and said, “Emperor Zarkon’s orders were-”

“Quiznak Zarkon’s smeg,” Lance cursed. He didn’t give the sentry a chance to react before blasting it with a blue-white quintessence bolt. He felt more than heard the Blue Lion roar and add her quintessence to his own, freezing the metal surfaces near the destroyed sentry.

Effective, but so much for subtly. Sentries were fairly easy to deal with. The lightning short circuited them easily and with Blue’s ice… It didn’t take more than a few ticks for Lance to freeze fry every sentry in this corridor of the brig.

Boots, softer than a sentry’s, sounded from behind him and he whirled, hand raised to fire another bolt of frost lightning when he saw Subcommander Thace. When Lance moved to fire, the subcommander raised both of his hands palms out in the universal sign of surrender.

Noncombatant. Lance froze, forcing his quintessence to ebb back into his veins.

Thace stared at Lance with an unreadable expression. “You swore your loyalty to the Emperor,” he said after a few ticks.

Lance glared through his Galra gold eyes. “I swore an oath of loyalty and protection to the Galra Empire,” he corrected. “Not Zarkon. _Never_ Zarkon,” he hissed.

The subcommander’s eyes narrowed and Lance was prepared for the man to become a combatant again, when Thace lowered his hands and nodded. “The princess is in the fourth cell on the left,” he said, much to Lance’s confusion. “Get her and the Lions out of here.”

Lance tilted his head, feeling Chulatt peak out from the shadows of his hood by his neck. Thace blinked, taken aback by the sight of a cute furry creature sitting comfortably on the shoulder of a dark, threatening Druid. Not so threatening at the moment, Lance thought wryly.

“Why are you telling me this?” Lance asked. “Why should I trust you?”

Thace’s golden gaze shifted from Chulatt to Lance’s own golden eyes. “Because we have the same goal,” the subcommander said, reaching to something behind him. Lance fought the urge to flinch when Thace drew a knife from his belt, a vaguely familiar symbol glowing purple near the base of the blade. “We both want Zarkon gone.”

Lance’s gaze narrowed. There was something important here. Something he was missing.

_:Close.:_

Blue. Frak it.

“The solar barrier…” Lance began.

“Leave that to me,” Thace said, replacing his knife. “Just get out.”

Lance nodded and turned to the brig before pausing. He knew that symbol. Whirling he stared at Subcommander Thace with newfound respect and awe.

“Blade of Marmora,” he whispered.

The slight narrowing of the subcommander’s gaze and downward tilt of his head was confirmation enough. Thace had revealed himself as a sign of trust. A truce. Lance would be beyond rude if he didn’t give Thace something in return.

Facing the subcommander fully, Lance deliberately lowered his hood and dropped his Galra shift. He could feel his eyes settle back into their true color of sea glass blue while his skin lightened from the deep purple to the tan of an Oceanborne. This was his true form and, as far as Lance knew, the first time a Galra without clearance had ever seen a Druid this vulnerable.

“My name is Lance of the Oceanborne of Vuana,” Lance said, “the only surviving colony of Alteans left in the Encompassing Universe.” Thace’s eyes were wide with shock, but Lance was running out of time. “You aided me. Now let me aid you. Get out of this section and behind a blast door as fast as you can.” Thace frowned in confusion. “Blue is coming and she doesn’t plan on using a premade door to get in.”

Thace blinked, then his eyes widened in understanding. He nodded and tucked his blade in his belt. “I’ll handle the solar barrier,” he said. “Get the Lions out of here before more noncombatants die.”

Lance nodded. “Understood. And Thace,” he called as the subcommander turned to leave. “Survive.”

Thace frowned, then smiled and nodded before vanishing around the corner. Well, well, well. Apparently the ‘Verse deemed Lance worthy of a stroke of luck. Wonder how long that would last? Lance had no desire to find out.

He shifted back into his Galra form and raised his hood once more. Then he hurried to the forth cell on the left and peeked through the barred slot just at his eye level. Inside, near the floor against the far wall of the cell, he saw a familiar cloud of white hair. The witch really was here. Since when did she get captured?

Not important.

Freeing his left hand from the folds of his billowing sleeve, Lance channeled thin, twining strands of quintessence into his fingernails and began picking the lock. It took a bit longer than he would have preferred -frak Zarkon’s security- but the door still surrendered to his makeshifted lockpick. Frell was he never more grateful for the annoying antics of siblings than right now.

Huffing in relief, Lance stood and pushed the door open. “Witch!” he said as loud as he dared. “Come on. Get out.”

The witch blinked up at him from her spot on the floor. She looked ridiculous in the oversized Galra foot soldier uniform she wore. Her white hair was gathered up in a loose but controlled bun and her turquoise eyes shone in the dim light.

“Lance?” she said, getting her feet. She looked down at Lance’s new robes and her shock melted into distrust. “What are you doing here?” she demanded.

“We don’t have time for this,” Lance snapped, reaching out to grab her hand and pull her out into the hall.

But she dodged his hand and glared at him. “Why are you here?” she said angrily. “What are you doing here?” Her eyes widened. “Quiznak. You didn’t bring Voltron here, did you?”

“Because I was brought here, freeing you, and not Voltron exactly but the Lions yes,” Lance said, listing off his answers impatiently. “Now are you going to keep standing there like a quiznaking imbecile or are you going to co-”

_:Here.:_

Frak.

Without thinking through his actions, Lance dove forwards. He had a split tick to see the stunned expression on the witch’s face before his body collided with hers, knocking them down to the floor. They barely hit the floor before metal screeched in protest followed by an explosion and rushing air.

Lance was really getting fed up with being decompressed. Blue’s amusement tickled his senses as Lance pushed himself up to his hands and feet. He lifted his head and shot Blue a disgruntled look through the dizzying fog. Blue responded with a loud purr that reeked of innocence. This lady…

By the ‘Verse, Lance loved her.

Blue purred proudly and opened her mouth for him to climb in and pilot her away. Lance rolled his eyes, grabbed the witch’s wrist, and yanked her up behind him as he ran to the Blue Lion.

“Get in!” he hollered over the roaring wind.

The blast doors down the hall were probably closed now, preventing the rest of the ship from being decompressed as well. That would stop anyone else from coming and stopping them. Unless the Blue Lion was attacked from outside. Her butt must be hanging unprotected out in space. The fog was making it difficult to breathe.

Then Blue snapped her jaws shut and Lance was back in the safety and quiet of her cockpit. He stumbled towards the Blue Lion’s pilot seat, fumbling with his too long sleeves before gripping the Lion’s controls. He pulled her back out of the ship’s hull and out into the relative safety of space.

He barely got a chance to look around and get a vague situational awareness before something snagged his robes and yanked his head back. When a pair of bright, furious turquoise met his own Galra gold, he flinched.

“Why are you here? Why do you look like that?” the witch demanded. “I demand to know what is going on?” She looked out the Blue Lion’s main view screen and paled. “Please don’t tell me you brought the Black Lion here.”

Lance winced. “Would it make you feel better if I wasn’t the one who brought it here?” he asked.


	27. Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Keith is furious, the battle is not going well, and two bastards make an appearance. But only one bastard drives Keith to the limit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** Hope this little glimpse of Keith's side of things helps clear up a few things. Sleep well. If you can~ *snickers*

_“Paladins!”_ Coran cried, his voice shaking with fear. _“I can’t contain the Blue Lion any longer. If I don’t let her out, she’ll break down the hanger door!”_

“No!” Keith shouted back, dodging a volley of fire from the Galra fighters swarming around him. “Coran, you can’t let her out.”

 _“If the hanger door is broken, we could face a hull breach,”_ Coran said.

Keith shot a quick glance at the video feed from the Castle of Lions and saw the fear in the advisor’s eyes. Gritting his teeth, Keith pushed his Lion harder. The Blue Lion couldn’t be trusted. Lance had abandoned them and turned to Zarkon’s side.

Red growled in Keith’s mind with a forceful reminder that technically, Lance had never really been on their side to begin with. For some reason, that thought just made Lance’s betrayal even worse in Keith’s mind. If the Druid had truly meant it when he claimed to hate Zarkon, then why would he go back to the Galra Empire?

If that wasn’t bad enough, now Zarkon had the princess. Keith was livid. They were not ready to face Zarkon directly like this. Everyone knew it. But when Allura had been captured, they didn’t have a choice. Maybe if they’d been able to form Voltron and come in guns blazing, then maybe they would have had a shadow of a chance. But with the Druid gone, they were down a paladin and subsequently down a Lion.

If the Blue Lion would just sit back, keep her jowls shut, and stop distracting Coran, then maybe Keith and the others could rely on Coran’s backup firepower more. As it was, she had been in a state of near madness ever since they’d arrived in the Central Command System. She’d almost escaped before the advisor locked her hanger door shut, sealing her inside the Castle. Her resulting temper tantrum had shaken the entire Castle.

The only reason Keith could possibly think of that would drive the Blue Lion into such a state was that Lance was nearby. His violet eyes locked on the monstrous Central Command ship hanging in space with hatred and fury. If he ever got his hands on the Druid again, he would make him suffer for getting them into this mess.

But that wasn’t the problem right now.  

 _“Coran,”_ Shiro called through the comms. _“Have you located the princess yet?”_

 _“Yeah, cause I’m getting the sneaking suspicion these guys knew we were coming,”_ Hunk mumbled just loud enough for all of them to hear.

“I wonder why,” Keith said in a flat, unamused tone.

 _“Not now, Keith,”_ Shiro scolded, dodging the blasts from the numerous Galra battlecruisers attempting to pin the Black Lion down. _“Coran, got anything?”_

 _“Actually, yes I think I do,”_ the advisor replied. _“I’m forwarding the approximate coordinates to you now.”_ A new window opened to Keith’s right, coordinates flashing in red. _“I can’t get you anything more specific without breaking cover, unfortunately.”_

 _“Got it,”_ Pidge said. _“I’ll try to get a little closer to the command ship and see if I can get a lock on her signal that way.”_

“Good idea, Pidge. I’ll cover you,” Keith said, swerving the Red Lion down and around to follow the smaller Green Lion.

 _“Hunk, cover my six,”_ Shiro said. _“I’m going to try taking out those three battlecruisers at my nine o’clock.”_

_“Roger.”_

There were way too many Galra fighters for Keith to handle. If Keith were honest, there were too many for their entire team to handle. They came from the battlecruisers and the orbiting rings. They had all been able to blast a hanger or two on the closest ring to the command ship, but none on the rings further out.

They’re job was to locate and extract the princess then high tail it out of here as fast as they possibly could. Keith wasn’t surprised to find such impressive defenses for Zarkon’s Central Command System, but he was seriously ticked off about it. This was a pain in the ass.

Speaking of. “Pidge,” he said, firing a beam of blue energy from his Lion’s mouth at a fleet of fighters headed for the Green Lion’s blind spot. “Fighters ahead, on your four o’clock.”

The Green Lion turned its massive head back to the fleet and dodged a volley of red blasts. Unfortunately, this sent her further from Zarkon’s command ship. Keith prayed to everything he could think of that his friend could still scan the ship for the princess.

_“She broke out!”_

Startled by Coran’s shout, Keith pulled up short and turned his full attention on the advisor’s video feed. “What?”

 _“The Blue Lion!”_ Coran said. _“She broke out of her hanger. She’s coming towards you.”_

 _“The Lions can fly on their own?”_ Pidge cried in surprised tinged with interest.

 _“It… I… I’ve only ever heard of it happening once before,”_ Coran said, typing away at something Keith couldn’t see.

Then an alarm sounded in the Red Lion’s cockpit and Keith couldn’t watch the advisor anymore. He pulled the controls towards him and felt the Red Lion climb until she was completely turned around, narrowly avoiding a beam of magenta energy from a battlecruiser’s ion canon.

“Damn it,” he muttered. “Shiro, can you and Hunk cover Pidge? I’m going to stop the Blue Lion.”

 _“Keith,”_ Shiro said, a video of the black paladin’s face appearing next to Coran’s on Keith’s view screen, _“I don’t know if-”_

“Lance betrayed us, Shiro,” Keith snapped, scanning his readouts for the Blue Lion’s distinctive, pulsing signature. “If the Blue Lion is acting on her own, that means Lance is here. If he’s here and calling Blue then-”

 _“We still don’t know why Lance left, Keith,”_ Hunk said in concern. _“You only saw him leave.”_

 _“He was defending one of those creepy Druid people Shiro warned us about,”_ Pidge argued. _“We were there, Hunk. You, Keith, and I all saw it. Lance could have gotten into the Green Lion, but he didn’t.”_

“Look, whatever!” Keith interrupted. “The point is, we can’t let Zarkon get the Blue Lion _and_ the princess.”

 _“Keith has a point,”_ Shiro said in reluctant agreement. _“Alright. We’ll cover you. Don’t get too close. I doubt she’ll handle you well without a pilot.”_

Without reply, Keith pushed the Red Lion’s controls forward feeling Red leap ahead with her impressive speed. Heat burned in his mind and heart as Red pressed her influence on him. She wanted to know what her pridemate was up to just as much as Keith. Blue was her friend, but Red wasn’t the type to trust blindly like Blue.

Neither was Keith. He grinned. He and Red were a match made in the heart of a volcano. Red purred bringing a grin to Keith’s face. Of course she would like that comparison.

Before Keith realized it, they were upon the Blue Lion. Blue took one look at them and tried to maneuver around them. Shiro was right. The Lions could move on their own, but they weren’t as efficient without their paladins piloting them.

Keith wouldn’t let her slip pass him. He pulled the Red Lion to the right, feeling Red’s fiery consciousness growl with pride. She loved it when her pilot flew her like this. Between her speed and agility and her paladin’s masterful piloting skills, the Blue Lion would not escape them.

Violet abruptly blinded them as several energy beams from five battlecruisers advancing from one of the outer orbiting rings fired at him. Red roared in fury when Keith pulled her away from the attack with a shout of his own. They weren’t quite fast enough. One of the beams clipped the Red Lion’s right rear paw, sending them spinning out.

It took a second for Keith to recover control and regain a situational awareness. The Blue Lion was already advancing towards the central command ship once more. But it was the movements of the battlecruisers that caught Keith’s attention. The Galra weren’t firing on the Blue Lion. They were firing at anyone who tried to get too close to it.

“Coran, we could use some back up,” Keith called, speeding after the battlecruisers. “They’re not firing on the Blue Lion.”

 _“What?”_ Coran gasped. _“I mean I can’t say I’m not relieved, but why wouldn’t they attack?”_

Keith gripped Red’s controls tightly. “Because Lance betrayed us,” he said.

 _“We still don’t know that for sure, Keith,”_ Hunk said.

“Then why aren’t the Galra attacking the Blue Lion?” Keith shouted angrily.

 _“Maybe because she’s heading straight to Zarkon without a fight?”_ Hunk suggested. _“Actually, yeah, when I put it like that, it does look like Lance betrayed us.”_

Keith growled and leapt for the nearest battlecruiser. He would rip it to shreds and to hell with anyone on board. He was furious and hurting and needed a something to hit. How nice of the Galra to give him so many targets.

 _“Keith!”_ Shiro called after the first two battlecruisers Keith attacked exploded in flame and pulverized metal. _“There are civilians on- Ugh!”_

“Shiro?!” Keith cried, halting his attack to turn to his friend and leader.

 _“Guys! I found the princess’s exact location!”_ Pidge crowed victoriously. _“She’s near the base of the command ship.”_

 _“Great,”_ Hunk said. _“How are we supposed to get to her?”_

Pidge maneuvered the Green Lion around an annoyingly persistent battlecruiser, obliterating fighters as she went. _“If I can get close enough, I can hack the ship’s computers and-”_

 _“That would take too long,”_ Hunk said. _“I say we just ram our way in Yellow style. Shiro, what do you think?”_

Keith broke away from another firefight with a dozen Galra fighters -they were literally everywhere, the damn locusts!- and scanned his view screens for the Black Lion. “Shiro!” he called again. “Are you alright?”

 _“Shiro?”_ Pidge called.

White blazed through the darkness of space, obliterating several battlecruisers at once. Keith instinctively shut his eyes against the brightness.

_“Coran attack! That one’s for Altea, you dirty bastards!”_

The light faded and Keith opened his eyes to survey the remains of a good half dozen battlecruisers. He grinned viciously.

 _“Whoo! Way to go Coran!”_ Pidge crowed.

 _“Thank you,”_ the advisor chirped. _“I try.”_

Hunk laughed and Keith chuckled himself. Until he finally noticed the Black Lion’s signature on his view screen. It was close to Zarkon’s command ship but there was something wrong with its signal. It didn’t look… right.

“Shiro?” Keith called. “Shiro, can you hear me?”

 _“Is something wrong with Shiro?”_ Pidge asked worriedly.

Keith flew closer to the command ship, avoiding the battlecruisers in his way. He felt slightly guilty for lashing out at the others. Ever since the Druid told them about the number of civilians and slaves on the Galra battlecruisers, Keith and the rest of the Voltron team had been iffy about attacking the massive ships head on. But now that the Druid was gone -abandoned them- Keith wasn’t sure if he should believe Lance’s words. The Druid could have been lying to them for all they knew.

Still, what was done was done. Feel questionable guilt later. Figure out what’s up with Shiro now.

“Shiro! Shiro, answer me!” Keith called again.

Still no response. Then-

_“Keith!”_

“Shiro!”

 _“Oh, thank god, you’re okay,”_ Hunk sighed in relief. _“You had us a little worried there fo-”_

 _“The Black Lion!”_ Shiro shouted, sounding winded and possibly injured. _“The Black Lion stopped responding. It spat me out.”_

 ** _“What?!”_** everyone shouted at the same time.

“What the hell?” Keith fumed. “Why would it do that?”

 _“But that doesn’t make any sense,”_ Coran said frantically.

 _“It’s Zarkon,”_ Shiro said.

 _“What? How?”_ Pidge demanded.

 _“I’m not sure,”_ Shiro confessed. _“My jet pack got damaged when I hit the command ship.”_

Keith hissed. “Stay there,” he commanded. “I’m coming for you.”

 _“No! Not me!”_ Shiro cried. _“The Black Lion! Get the Black Lion before Zarkon drags it into the command ship.”_

 _"Um, hey guys?”_ Hunk said suddenly. _“Anyone know why the Blue Lion’s flying right at Shiro?”_

“What?” The Red Lion displayed the location of her pridemate on her view screen and Keith glared. “Damn it. Pidge, Coran, give us some cover fire. Hunk, you’re the closest one to the Black Lion. Knock it out of whatever tractor beam is pulling it to Zarkon. I’ll deal with the Blue Lion.”

 _“Roger,”_ Pidge said, pulling her Green Lion out to more open space to engage the battlecruisers and fighters with Coran.

 _“Got it,”_ Hunk said, pushing the Yellow Lion into a collision course with the Black Lion.

 _“We won’t be able to hold back the entire Galra army for long,”_ Coran said, firing the Castle’s canons at the battlecruisers while taking damage to the shimmering particle barrier. _“Whatever you’re going to do, do it fast.”_

“I plan to,” Keith said, urging the Red Lion into a steep dive.

The Blue Lion lashed her tail as it flew towards a tiny black and white speck against the command ship’s hull. Shiro, Keith realized. That speck was Shiro.

“Come on. Come on,” he muttered. Red roared in his mind, pushing herself as fast as she could go.

They weren’t going to make it.

“No! Shiro!”

The Blue Lion hit the hull hard enough to send an explosion of flame, dust, and shards of metal flying away as the air inside was sucked out into space. But the black and white speck was still there. The Blue Lion had missed.

Unless she didn’t miss. What if Shiro hadn’t been her intended target to begin with?

Keith opened a channel to the Green Lion and a video feed of the green paladin appeared in the lower right corner of his view screen. “Pidge. The princess’s location. Where was it?”

Pidge blinked and frowned, typing something into her Lion’s computer. _“I’m sending the coordinates to you now,”_ she said. _“Why?”_

Red pinged when she received Pidge’s message and displayed it in a new window next to Pidge’s image. Keith cursed. “That’s where the Blue Lion hit the command ship’s hull,” he said.

 _“What?”_ Shiro gasped.

 _“She must have called the Blue Lion to her,”_ Coran said.

 _“She can do that?”_ Hunk said. _“Geez, why didn’t she do that back when we were stuck tracking down the Lions the old-fashioned way?”_

 _“No kidding,”_ Shiro said, his larger speck pushing away from the damaged hull towards the Blue Lion’s exposed butt.

What? Keith blinked. Yes, the Blue Lion was buried up to her from shoulders in the side of the command ship’s hull leaving her body and rear end exposed. The fuck? She was defenseless like this. Anyone who wanted to could take pot shots at her, and they did.

The Galra battlecruisers that had been protecting the Blue Lion were now preparing to fire on her. Apparently, they didn’t take too kindly to a Lion of Voltron damaging their precious emperor’s ship.

“Good kitty,” Keith said, smirking. Red made a disgruntled sound and nudged his mind with her flaming jealously. Keith snorted, then blushed. “You’re a good kitty too, Red,” he said, reassuring his Lion’s wounded ego. “Don’t worry. I loved you first.”

Seemingly satisfied, Red turned her attention to-

_“UGH!”_

_“Hunk! You okay?”_ Shiro called.

 _“Yeah. I’m fine,”_ Hunk said. _“I knocked the Black Lion out of that tractor beam. Going after it now.”_

Keith lifted the Red Lion’s head to see what happened. The Black Lion was flying through space towards the same area of the hull where Shiro and the Blue Lion’s butt were. “Don’t bother,” Keith said, flying up to the errant Lion. “I got i- _Woah!”_

He yanked Red back when the Blue Lion jerked, bracing her front paws against the side of the hull and forced her head out of the hold. She shook herself then turned around to observe the battle, her tail swishing.

_“What the frell is he thinking?”_

Keith saw red.

“You bastard!” The Blue Lion had just enough time to turn its head to Keith in surprise before the Red Lion pounced, smacking it with full force on the side. “You think you can betray us and run like a coward then come back like nothing happened?” Keith screamed, lashing out with one of the Red Lion’s razor sharp claws. “Fuck you!”

_“Keith! That is enough!”_

Keith froze.

 _“Princess?!”_ Shiro gasped.

 _“Allura! Is that you?”_ Coran cried.

Hunk whooped. _“Alright. Lance got you out!”_

 _“Nice going there, Lance,”_ Pidge cheered.

 _“Shiro,”_ a video feed of the Blue Lion’s cockpit with both the princess and the Druid bastard who was… purple… appeared on the left side of Keith’s view screen. _“Where is the Black Lion?”_

 _“Hunk freed it from Zarkon’s hold,”_ Shiro said, waving from his spot by the hull. _“It spat me out.”_

Lance’s Galra eyes widened. _“No,”_ he murmured. _“That’s not…”_

“I’m on it!” Keith said, already turning to follow the Black Lion’s trajectory.

 _“No, Keith wait,”_ the princess said firmly. “ _Shiro, kick off the hull and grab one of Red’s paws. Keith, get Shiro as close as you can to the Black Lion.”_

“Can do.”

Keith met Shiro halfway, made sure he had a good grip, then barreled through space to the Black Lion. He was almost there when a streak of purple too small and dim to be an ion canon blast zipped by him, coming to a stop by the Black Lion’s unresponsive form floating near the hull.

 _“What is that?”_ Shiro asked.

“I don’t know.” Keith slowed down and magnified the image in front of him. He growled. “It’s a Galra.”

 _“Alone?”_ Hunk said in disbelief.

“Yeah,” Keith said. He broadcast the image to the others. “Anyone know who that is?”

Coran gasped but it was that bastard Druid who spoke. _“No,”_ the Druid breathed. _"_ _That’s what he meant. Keith, you need to get out of there. Now!”_

“Don’t tell me what to do, bastard,” Keith roared, seething with fury.

 _“No, Lance is right,”_ the princess said, sounding afraid. _“It’s Zarkon, Keith. Get out of there.”_

Zarkon.

 _“You can’t take him alone,”_ Coran added. _“He’s too powerful for any of us, right now.”_

Rage. Hot, boiling, explosive rage from both himself and the Red Lion erupted in Keith’s body and mind. That was _Zarkon_. He was _right there_. No Lion, no armor, nothing. Just a puny Galra against him and the Red Lion of Voltron. Flames licked the threads of his mind, fueling his hatred. Keith could do it. He could destroy Zarkon and the entire damn Galra Empire. Right here. Right now.

“You…” he hissed, feeling Red growl with him, hungry for revenge.

This monster was responsible for the destruction of her first paladin’s home, of the rise of the oppressive Galra Empire, for the capture and enslavement of Shiro, and the Druid’s betrayal. This _monster_ took everything from them. He was their anathema. The pain, the anger, the _hatred_ was burning them alive.

They would make Zarkon their fuel and burn all the brighter.

 _“You sick fuck. Burn!”_ they roared, charging their enemy.


	28. Cost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lance is a courier of sorts and sees something he doesn't like while Keith loses more than he planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** Be afraid. I resorted to coffee in order to finish this chapter. For some reason I started nodding off at 7:30 which is unacceptable. So I drank a full cup of cream drowned coffee to get the caffeine I needed to keep going. I'm a tea drink and only drink coffee as a last resort. I think my caffeine high shows a bit.
> 
> No regrets. Not even the end. ^_~ Especially since, as of this chapter, I've reached 45.5k words. Aw yiss! Just 5,000 more words to reach the 50k NaNo goal.

“Keith _no!_ Frell that quiznaker!” Lance cursed loudly, veering around so he had a clear view of the insane red paladin diving his Lion straight for the Emperor of the Galra Empire.

The witch placed a hand on his shoulder and shot a weird side-eyed look. “I don’t think you’re using that word correctly,” she said.

“By the ‘Verse. Is that _really_ what you want to talk about right now?” Lance shouted, turning to the witch. “Really?”

Allura hesitated before shaking her head. “Just get me back to the Castle of Lions,” she said in a tone that would except no disagreement. “I’ll open a wormhole and get us out of here.”

Lance started to turn the Blue Lion away when he caught sight of the Red Lion firing a beam of blue-white from its mouth. He paused and stared, a faint hope forming in the pit of his stomach. It was obliterated the next tick when the attack dissipated revealing a purple energy shield in the shape of the Galra Empire’s emblem. Lance sighed wearily and turned away, flying Blue to the Castle of Lions.

“He’s going to get himself killed,” Lance grumbled. Why did that thought bother him so much?

_:Red friend? Worried?:_

Lance grimaced when Chulatt used its tiny claws to climb its way up to the top of Lance’s head, clinging to the strands of his brown hair.

“Chulatt?” the witch gasped, looking at the small blue mouse. “Why are you here?”

Chulatt made a series of complicated squeaks that Lance had no hope of following. He did catch a stray _:Lance:_ and _:protect:_ mixed in the mesh of emotions filtering into his mind from his furry companion. However, with Blue’s influence icy cold and _right here_ it was difficult to focus on anything but her.

Flying the Blue Lion was a dream. It wasn’t easy, but Blue did her best to help him out with the controls. She suggested a quick succession of manipulations that sent Blue powering through the sky at breakneck speed, ducking below the firing range of battlecruisers and brute forcing his way through an advancing pod of fighters.

Then the witch suddenly reached in front of him to tapped something into the Blue Lion’s displays. The Blue Lion swerved erratically when Lance leaned sharply to the side to see the view screen over the witch’s arm. Shooting Allura an annoyed look, Lance leaned forward and attempted to fly the Blue Lion with his a limited view.

“Coran,” Allura said, leaning back so Lance had a clear view once more. “Can you hear me?”

 _“I can, princess,”_ the advisor said, a smile audible in his voice. _“I’m so glad you’re back.”_

“Me too, Coran,” she replied, although her answering smile was a faint shadow to what Coran’s undoubtedly was. “I need you to open the Blue Lion’s hanger door so we can get in.”

Lance flushed and sank deeper into his pilot seat as he continued to fly Blue. He felt a swell of amused pride emanating from the Blue Lion’s presence in his mind. Lance may find it embarrassing but Blue was perfectly happy with what she did. She would do it again if she had to. She mentally tossed her head and purred and Lance wanted to smack his face. Honestly, sometimes Blue acted like a child.

He loved her so freaking much. The purr she made when she heard that little thought was deep and comforting, pressing on his sense of self. She loved him too.

 _“Er, well, I don’t think I’ll have to,”_ Coran said, sounding sheepish. _“The Blue Lion sort of tore it down to get out.”_

“The Blue Lion _what?”_ the witch gasped.

Bright turquoise eyes widened and darted to Lance, narrowing when they locked on Galra gold. Awkwardly, Lance dropped his Galra shift and avoided Allura’s eyes.

“Lance,” she said, lifting a white eyebrow. “Care to explain?”

Lance hunched his shoulders and continued to fly Blue towards the Castle of Lions. “Not really,” he muttered. He arced up through a volley of violet beams fired from the battlecruisers and fighters. “Coran, can you lower the particle barrier?” he said louder.

 _“Yes, but it would have to be quick,”_ the advisor said. _“As soon as I drop the barrier the Castle won’t have any protection. We’ll take heavy fire.”_

 _“Don’t worry, Coran,”_ Hunk said, appearing on Lance’s view screen. _“We got your back.”_

 _“Yeah. Hunk and I’ll cover you so Lance can get the princess inside,”_ Pidge said.

“Wait,” Lance said, sitting up straight and scanning his view screen. “Where’s Keith and Shiro?”

The Green Lion darted in front of Blue, taking out a fighter encroaching on Lance’s blind spot. _“Keith's ignoring us and attacking Zarkon like a mad man,”_ Pidge said. _“The faster we get the princess back into the Castle, the faster we can grab Keith and get out of here.”_

“But what about Shiro?” the witch pressed, crouching down in the empty space between Lance’s seat and the side of the cockpit.

_“He should be… Oh crap.”_

_“No shit,”_ Pidge groaned.

Lance stiffened, his blue eyes narrowing. “Hunk?” he asked. “Hunk, what is it?”

 _“Um, well, you see, we left Shiro with Keith,”_ Hunk said.

“But Keith’s… Frakking quiznak.” Lance yanked Blue’s controls back, forcing her into a roll so he faced the way he came from.

“Lance, no!” the witch shouted, grabbing his shoulder at the same time Chulatt squealed right next to his ear. “Get me back to the Castle. Pidge, go back and help Shiro. Both of you are to keep an eye on Keith. Be ready to fall back to the Castle at my signal.”

 _“You got it, princess,”_ Pidge said.

Lance hesitated, watching the smaller Green Lion fly past him and back into the heat of the battle. Gritting his teeth, Lance grimaced and forced himself to turn Blue back to the Castle. As soon as he dumped the witch off, he was going to grab Keith and shake some sense into that crazy paladin.

Blue growled her agreement. Her fiery pridemate was prone to acting on instinct without thinking things through. It was a useful tactic in battle, but there were times when the Red Lion could take it too far. With a paladin like Keith, neither Lance nor Blue had any doubt those instincts were being acted upon without restraint.

That scared them.

Keith.

“Lance?”

At Allura’s voice, Lance frowned and pushed Blue up to the Castle’s particle barrier. “Coran, now!” he shouted.

_“Lowering barrier.”_

The shimmering blue-white hexagonal patterned particle barrier dissipated just long enough for the Blue Lion to pass through. Then it was immediately back up. Good thing too, Lance thought as the flashes of impacts of enemy attacks on the barrier brightened his view screen. With the Blue Lion’s guidance, Lance flew up to the hanger. His eyes grew wide and he gaped when he saw the damage to the Blue Lion’s hanger door.

“Frell, Blue,” he murmured, taking in the mangled metal in awe. Beside him, he could feel the witch’s shock as well. He snickered despite himself. “You beautiful girl,” he teased between laughter. “If you wanted me so bad, all you had to do was ask.”

Blue roared her amusement and Lance could swear he felt a cool, wet tongue swipe over his sense of self. He shuddered. That was super weird, but also very adorable. He maneuvered his big beautiful Lion into her hanger and landed her on the floor. Well, he tried to anyway. With the hanger open to space, the artificial gravity wasn’t working.

“Be right back, pretty lady,” Lance said, patting Blue’s controls and smiling at her. “Alright, witch,” he said, pulling himself out of his chair and turning to Allura. “Hang on.”

Allura gasped and stared at Lance in shocked offense. “Excuse me?” she said. “We can’t go out there like this. We don’t have any protection. We’ll be-”

Without waiting to hear more, Lance grabbed the witch’s arm, picked a location from his memory, and teleported. They reappeared on the bridge of the Castle of Lions much to Chulatt’s vocal surprise.

“-exposed to… vacuum…” The witch trailed off as her mind caught up to what she was seeing. Her bright eyes darted around the bridge in shock. “How…?”

“Princess!” Coran cried, racing towards them.

Lance wobbled, the blood draining from his head making his dizzy and disoriented. He dropped heavily to his knees and took slow, deep breaths. Yeah. Teleporting himself and another person in his exhausted state? Not a good idea. Too much effort. And he still needed to get back to Blue. He couldn’t leave Keith out there alone.

“Lance?” The witch knelt in front of him, her slender hands gripping his shoulders firmly but gently. Thankfully she didn’t shake him. That would have just made things worse. “Lance, are you alright?” she asked worriedly.

Lance took a tick or two to come back to himself, then nodded slowly. Already he was feeling better; a bit exhausted, but better. “Yeah,” he said. “I’ll be in Blue if you need me.”

“No. Wai-”

He teleported again, reappearing in the Blue Lion’s cockpit to yet another startled squeak from his furry friend. He reached up and patted Chulatt’s fur briefly. Blue’s welcoming purr eased the tension working its way into his body. She came to life as soon as he took hold of the controls.

“Come on, beautiful,” he said, turning Blue around so they faced the battle. “Let’s go make sure that frakking idiot doesn’t kill himself.”

Blue purred and leapt forward.

“Coran, drop the barrier,” Lance called. “I’ll be right back.”

 _“Can’t do that,”_ the advisor said. _“Stay here. Allura’s going to open up a wormhole.”_

“What?” Lance said, slowing Blue down so they stopped just short of the glowing particle barrier. “What about the others?”

 _“We’re calling them now,”_ the witch said. _“Paladins! Get back to the Castle. Now!”_

 _“Is that you princess?”_ Pidge said, her image popping up in the corner of the Blue Lion’s view screen. _“We could use some help over here. Keith is- Holy shit!”_

An explosion of brilliant flame and flying shrapnel filled the far corner of the view screen. Lance whipped his gaze to the area, the display zooming in on the destruction. It took a tick for Lance to recognize what it was he was looking at. But when he did, he tensed, eyes going wide. The blood drained from his face and his hands shook as he tried to comprehend what he was seeing.

No. No. Dear ‘Verse, no. Oh frell.

The inner ring… The inner rings had been attacked. But… how…? Who would…?

“Coran, drop the barrier,” he said, forcing his shaking hands to grip Blue’s controls.

_“You need to stay he-”_

“That wasn’t a request, Coran,” Lance snapped, feeling fury replace his fear with all the force of a rogue wave. “Drop the barrier or I’ll wear it down from inside.”

Blue grumbled her agreement. Although, she made it clear how much she wasn’t looking forward to the alternative to Coran not lifting the barrier. She did not want to be too damaged. Lance felt his heart constrict with hurt before Blue nuzzled him. She may not want to get hurt, but she wanted to stop any further loss of life. If she had to get hurt to do that, then it was worth it.

She just wouldn’t like it. And she would make sure Lance knew how much she didn’t like it when they got out of here. A tiny amused smile wormed its way onto his face. He couldn’t argue with that logic.

“We get out of this in one piece and you can complain all you want, beautiful,” he said. “Coran, drop that barrier or I swear to the ‘Verse I’ll-”

The barrier vanished. Lance didn’t question it. He flew as fast as he possibly could towards the gaping wound in the inner ring of the Central Command System. The rings were filled with innocents, noncombatants who simply wanted to survive. Who would deliberately attack it? The Galra wouldn’t.

Would the paladins? Did they even know about the rings?

“Pidge!” he shouted. “Hunk! What’s going on? Tell me what’s happening.”

 _“It’s Zarkon!”_ Hunk said.

The Yellow Lion dove under an ion canon blast, slicing through the vulnerable underside of a battlecruiser with its jaw blade. Lance breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the battlecruiser waver but not explode. Too many innocent lives had already been lost today. No more.

Please, no more.

 _“He blocked it. Holy fuck! How the hell did he do that?”_ Pidge shouted.

“Do what?” Lance demanded, scanning his display for anything that would explain what he was seeing. “What did Zarkon block? Where’s Keith and Shiro?”

 _“Keith made this huge gun appear on the Red Lion and… Dude, it was insane,”_ Hunk said.

Lance tightened his grip on the controls and pushed Blue to the limits of speed. If the destroyed pieces of the inner ring were even a hint of the sheer power of a weapon like Hunk implied Keith wielded, then Lance would not let it be fired again. Not here.

An alarm blared in Blue’s cockpit and Lance spun to the side, barely avoiding a beam of intense energy. What the frell?! That wasn’t from an ion canon. What was-?

Blue zoomed the display in on the Red Lion and a Galra that could only be Zarkon locked in combat near the hull of the central command ship. Mounted on the back of the Red Lion’s back was an enormous gun that fired another beam of energy at the darting form of Zarkon. The attack missed the Emperor entirely but succeeded in burning a winding crevasse in yet another section of the inner ring.

Wha… No.

Enough.

* * *

_“You fight like a Galra soldier.”_

Keith and Red fumed. Not only was Zarkon taunting them -how the hell did the bastard get into their communication system in the first place?- but the bastard just would not stay still and _die!_ Damn it all to hell, the bastard was fast. This must be where the Druid got his insane speed. At least Zarkon couldn’t teleport. Still, Keith was having trouble making his attacks connect with the emperor. Zarkon was just too fast and too small of a target for the Red Lion’s new gun.

He’d only managed to make the first burst connect but Zarkon hadn’t taken any damage that Keith could tell. The black bayard was definitely something else. Keith couldn’t get his bayard to change to anything other than a short sword but Zarkon could change his bayard’s form every second. It was infuriating.

That fucking shield though…

He could see the Green Lion dart past the upper section of his display, probably still trying to contact him. The jumble of voices were too distracting. There was no fucking way Keith was going to listen to Coran and the others telling him to leave. He had Zarkon _right there!_

If he could kill Zarkon here, then the war would be over. They’d win. Team Voltron would win. The fucker would be dead and the universe would be safe. Earth would be safe.

He couldn’t turn down this opportunity. He wouldn’t.

Alarms blared in the Red Lion’s cockpit but neither he nor Red were paying attention. They were too mad, too driven. This was what they both wanted. Zarkon dead. Revenge for the fallen. Together, they fired their back-mounted gun again, roaring when Zarkon deflected it with his fucking shield. _Damn_ that thi-

“Shit!”

Black metal links connected by purple energy whipped out from Zarkon’s black bayard, catching them in the side before they could react. Keith screamed and Red yowled in pain as they were slammed mercilessly to the metal surface of the command ship’s hull, denting it.

Red struggled to get back to her feet but she _hurt._ Keith yanked on Red’s controls with all his might, glancing out the view screen in growing horror. Zarkon changed his bayard’s form _again_ and blasted towards them wielding a short sword of purple energy.

“No,” Keith breathed. Fear, both his own and Red’s, flooded his senses like a firestorm. “No! Move! Come on, girl. Move!”

With Keith’s help, Red managed to push herself up to a crouch before collapsing under her own weight. Too much. It hurt too much.

“No!” Keith shouted. Red roared in frustration and pain. They wanted to fight. This wasn’t fair. They didn’t want it to end like this.

But they couldn’t. They were too weak and Zarkon was close, too close and they couldn’t dodge, and Zarkon was _right there-_

Then suddenly Zarkon wasn’t there and the Black Lion’s mountainous form landed on the hull in front of them. The Black Lion roared defiantly and blasted something -please be Zarkon- with its jaw cannon.

Keith scrambled to turn his comms back on. “Shiro!” he cried, staring up at the Black Lion. “Shiro is that you?”

_“Keith! It’s about time!”_

“Pidge?” Keith gasped in confusion. “Wha-”

 _“Yeah, it’s me Keith,”_ Shiro said, turning the Black Lion so it faced Keith and Red still lying prone on the ship’s hull. _“I got you bud- Woah!”_

Keith nearly flew out of seat when something slammed him and Red, completely blindsiding them and knocking them out into space.

_“You frakking quiznak!”_

Lance.

Keith tried to pulled Red out of the helpless tumble through space with no luck. He saw the Blue Lion chasing after him followed closely by the larger Black Lion in glimpses as he and Red tumbled end over end. He swallowed back bile and focused on grounding himself and not throwing up.

 _“Lance stop!”_ Shiro shouted.

_“Got him!”_

Hunk?

Red hit something from behind, yipping in pain and throwing Keith roughly against the controls. He tasted blood as he pushed himself back into his seat.

 _“Sorry buddy,”_ Hunk said. _“Couldn’t stop you any other way.”_

Huh. He must have hit the Yellow Lion.

 _“Paladins! Get back to the Castle now!”_ the princess commanded.

Keith grunted, wincing when his ribs creaked unnaturally. “Can’t,” he gasped. “Red isn’t responsive.”

 _“Don’t worry buddy,”_ Shiro said, flying the Black Lion up to Red and grabbing her with Black’s paws. _“I’ve got you. Everyone, get to the Castle.”_

 _“You go first,”_ Pidge said. _“We’ll cover you.”_

_“Thanks.”_

Keith shook his head to clear it and immediately regretted it when he felt lightheaded and dizzy. Stars burst in front of his eyes and he groaned.

_“Keith!”_

“I’m fine, Shiro,” he assured his friend. “Don’t worry about it.”

 _“You’d better worry,”_ Lance’s voice hissed through the comms.

“Fuck you traitor!” Keith snapped.

 _“I’m not a traitor!”_ Was Lance actually _offended?_ Fuck him.

“You abandoned us!” Keith shouted angrily, wincing and gripping his helmet when his head pulsed. He could still taste blood in his mouth and his lip stung. “You sided with that Druid instead of us.”

_“You don’t know anything.”_

“I know what I saw, you fucktard!”

 _“Guys!”_ Shiro snapped. _“Save it. Coran, get ready to lower the shield and get out of here.”_

 _“We’re ready Shiro,”_ the princess responded. _“As soon as you’re all in your hangers, I’ll open a wormhole and we can get out of this mess.”_

 _“I… I don’t think that will work,”_ Lance said, sounding hesitant.

 _“Oh god, Lance,”_ Hunk groaned. _“Don’t jinx it.”_

_“What’s a jinx?”_

_“Guys!”_

_“Sorry Shiro,”_ Hunk said. At least he sounded sorry.

Keith felt tired and his head wouldn’t stop hurting. Damn it. He couldn’t see straight.

He blinked.

_“Keith! Answer me!”_

“I’m fine,” he said. Why did his voice sound weird?

_“Princess!”_

_“We’re trying Shiro!”_ Coran sounded terrified. _“I think the Galra’s shield is stopping us from- Wait. What?”_

Keith groaned and slumped in his chair. His head hurt like the dickens.

 _“He did it,”_ Lance crowed. _“Witch, open a wormhole now!”_

 _“I’m not a witch!”_ the princess said in annoyance.

Was this really the time to be arguing? Whatever. As long as they got out of this fucking place and his head stopping pulsing. He was shaking.

No, Red was shaking. Keith swallowed back yet another rush of nausea. “Oh god.”

_“What?! Princess, what’s happening?”_

_“Shiro! Help!”_

_“Hunk! Grab my pa-”_

_“Pidge! Hold o-”_

“Shiro!” Keith called through the ruckus of voices and noise and shaking and insanity.

_“Keith!”_

_“No! Don-”_

_“Keith! Snap out of it!”_

Keith whimpered, clutching his aching head. It hurt to breath. It hurt to think. Everything hurt. Red? Red please. Make it stop.

“Shiro,” Keith called weakly. It was dark. Why was it dark?

_“Keith!”_

That wasn’t Shiro. Where was Shiro?

“Come back. Shiro?”

_"Keith! Ke-"_


	29. Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lance falls and wakes up in water, alone except for Keith's annoying... fading voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** And after chapters and chapters worth of y'all begging, I give you some modern Alteans. Next chapter. XD
> 
> Fun fact: I actually considering naming this chapter "fuck." Just because.

Too much! Too much!

Lance clung to Blue’s controls with all his strength but the sheer force of being yanked from the Castleship and flung out into the violently warped wormhole pinned him to his seat. It felt like Zarkon’s big, fat smeg was sitting square on his chest. He was being crushed against the chair so hard he couldn’t move and he could barely breathe.

His vision began to fade to black around the edges until he was totally blind. His tongue felt thick and fluffy and his head lolled limply as he slowly lost consciousness. Terrified thoughts raced through his mind. What kind of weapon was that? What could interfere with a wormhole like this?

He couldn’t hold on. He couldn’t see. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t-

_:Pain! Blind! Stop!:_

Chulatt! Bless the poor little thing. If Lance was feeling it _this_ strongly, he couldn’t only imagine what the tiny mouse was feeling. _:Chulatt. Chulatt! Calm! Calm. Almost over. Hold on.:_ Just a bit more. Just a… bit… more….

* * *

_Bright!_

He felt light. Too light. His eyes eased open and suddenly he was wide awake. He was falling! ‘Verse, he was _falling!_ Blue. Blue! Help!

The surface of some planet was close. Too close and coming _closer!_ No! He didn’t want to die like this. Not like this! Not again! Blue!

Blue made a pathetically weak and terrified sound in his head and Lance felt his heart clench. Blue was scared. She knew she was falling. She knew she was falling with Lance in her cockpit. And she knew she could do nothing to stop it. She was hurt and weary and disoriented and her systems weren’t working and she was _scared!_

“Blue,” he gasped. He wasn’t sure if his voice actually came out or if his lips simply formed the words around silent, petrified breaths. “Blue! I’m scared.”

Blue roared and Lance felt briefly heavier. Then they broke through the clouds and Lance saw water. He screamed.

* * *

Blue. Everything was an odd shade of blue. The blue moved and rippled like water. But he didn’t feel like he was in water. He could breathe… barely. He felt heavy and achy. His entire body hurt like he’d been flattened under a fully loaded battlecruiser.

What the frell?

He opened his eyes again and blinked into the dim bluish light. He was on his stomach, sort of. The right side of his chest was against the cool metal floor but something hard and cool pressed against his left side, half propping him up. He tugged his legs halfheartedly, giving up almost immediately when he felt resistance and the sharp twang of pain.

His fingers twitched when he tried to move them, but nothing else happened. Everything was slow and rippled oddly. Was he really awake? Or was this a dream? He wasn’t sure.

Chulatt? Where…?

He closed his eyes.

* * *

_“…lo…”_

…hmm?

_“..ne there? ..ro?...”_

…who? What?

_“Shiro? …llo? Can… hear me?”_

No. He didn’t want to wake up.

_“Please. Someone? Answer me.”_

Well when you put it like that. He opened his mouth and gave the best answer he could come up with. Short but effective.

“Ugh.”

_“Hello?! Shiro? Who is this? Shiro? Is that you?”_

And now they wouldn’t shut up. Fabulous. Why did he answer again?

_“Can you hear me?”_

Wait. Lance knew that voice.

Oh frak. Or, given the circumstances, ‘fuck’ probably fit this whole welbum birthed mess best.

“Fuck.”

_“…um… Yeah, but… Aw, what the fuck. Yeah. Yeah, I agree. Fuck.”_

Well at least they agreed on something for once. That was an improvement. He wondered how long it would last.

It took a few breaths to calm himself down enough to shift and pull his arms close. His right arm was sprawled across the floor above his head and his left was draped haphazardly over what looked like a console in the blue-black light. Where was he again?

A purr and suddenly Lance _knew._ His eyes flew open and he scrambled to get up, promptly coughing a hoarse cry of pain when his entire body rejected the abrupt movement.

_“Hey! You alright? What happened?”_

Nothing. Just bad luck and falling. Again. Lance really hated falling. Pet peeve. Definitely now his number one top fears. No worries. Nothing serious. Why do you ask?

“Ugh,” he groaned. “Ow.”

_“Hey man, you’ve gotta talk to me, okay? What’s wrong? You hurt?”_

Was he hurt. No.

“Fuck.”

Keith huffed a breathless laugh. _“Pretty sure we both agree on that, buddy,”_ he said. _“I need more than that. Are you okay? You hurt?”_

Lance groaned and moved slower this time. He pulled both arms close to his chest, relishing the relief of having his elbows bend correctly. Placing his palms on the cool floor, he pushed himself up. His arms shook from pain and exertion but at least he was finally sitting up.

He promptly grayed out. His vision tunneled and he slumped forward feeling top heavy and fuzzy. He leaned to the left and hit something cool, metal, and immovable. After a tick, his eyesight returned and he could move again through the tingling sensation lingered.

Blinking in confusion, Lance finally looked around and took in his surroundings. He was inside the Blue Lion’s cockpit but all the lights and displays were dark. Reaching out with his senses he felt Blue. She was awake and aware if a bit dizzy and confused herself. She wasn’t sure where they were but she was enjoying the water on her metallic skin.

Water?

Curious, Lance freed his feet from the cavity beneath the Blue Lion’s control surfaces and leaned forward. Bracing his forearms on the main console, Lance hauled himself up so he could see out the Blue Lion’s main view screen. It was dark but there was light rippling from somewhere far above.

“By the ‘Verse,” he breathed. He blinked, squeezing his eyes shut before opening them again and staring awestruck at the sight. “Water. We’re underwater. How the frell did we…?”

_“The fuck?”_

“Yeah, really.”

_“No! The fuck man. Is that you, you fucking Druid?”_

Awe gone. Lance groaned and slipped to his knees with a heavy sigh. His chin hit his folded arms and he just stared dimly out into the water.

“Hello to you too, Keithy-Keith,” he drawled. “I’m fine. Not hurt too bad. How are you? Enjoy destroying battlecruisers and the Central Command Systems’ rings where millions of innocent noncombatants lived? Or were you too busy getting the smeg beaten off you by the frakking Emperor of the Galra Empire?”

_“You fuckin-”_

“Oh, I’m sorry. Was that a sore spot?” Lance said, examining his nails with a tired wince. The edges were all chipped in uneven edges. Frak it. He’d have to redo them.

 _“You-! Damn it! You betrayed us. Don’t you fucking **dare** lecture me,”_ Keith snapped furiously.

Lance hummed absently. “I take that as a yes. Sorry. Oops. Wait. Did I say ‘sorry?’ My mistake. No, not sorry.”

_“Fuck you.”_

“Yes, we have been over this,” Lance said, nodding. “You’re repeating yourself.”

_“You did too.”_

“Mm, yes well, I am half awake right now,” Lance said, sighing and dropping his hand back to the control surface.

He watched the water outside his view screen moved and flow through half-lidded eyes. The way the light moved and rippled in the water was soothing and made him sleepy. He yawned and adjusted his body so he was more comfortable.

“Hey Keith,” he said. “You awake?”

 _“What do you think, jackass?”_ Keith growled.

“No idea what a ‘jackass’ is but I’m going to take that as a compliment so thank you, pretty boy,” Lance said rolling his eyes. Keith made a choked sound that sounded like a cross between a squeak and a cough. “Hm? You okay there, pretty boy?”

 _“I am not pretty!”_ Keith cried.

Lance shrugged even though the red paladin couldn’t see him. “Shows what you know,” he said, yawning again.

_:…:_

Blinking, Lance mentally grasped that weak thread of thought. Examining it, he stiffened. “Chulatt? Chulatt!”

He spun around too quickly for his abused body to keep up and ended up falling over. He smacked his face on the cushion of the pilot seat behind him with a grunt before pushing himself up again. He blinked his wide blue eyes in the dim bluish light and looked around the Blue Lion’s cockpit for his tiny, furry friend.

“Chulatt?” he called worriedly. “Chulatt, can you hear me? Where are you?”

_:…hurt… sleepy…:_

“I’m here, little one,” he said, crawling past the pilot seat on all fours. His hands caught on the thick, heavy robes he still wore almost causing him to fall on his face. “Where are you? Can you make a sound for me?”

_“…Lance?”_

“Quiet Keith. I’m looking for someone,” Lance said.

The red paladin didn’t make any further attempts to contact him so Lance focused on the sounds in the cockpit. He could hear the water sloshing against the sides of the Blue Lion, his own controlled breathing, and nothing else. His eyes darted around the small room, seeking any sign of light blue.

There! How…?

“Chulatt!” he cried. Pushing himself to his feet, Lance took a few wobbly steps towards one of the two waist high ledges on either wall near the back of the cockpit. “Chulatt. Hey, it’s okay. I’m here. I’m here.”

He reached out to the huddled ball of dirty light blue fur when his legs gave out and he thudded heavily to his knees. Carefully, Lance scooped the little mouse into his hands and pulled it close. He gently brushed the blue fur aside, looking for any sign of injuries or blood. Chulatt made a soft, pained sound that made Lance wince sympathetically. But otherwise, Chulatt allowed Lance to examine him.

Lance breathed a sigh of relief when he found no obvious injuries. But he didn’t dismiss the possibility of internal injuries. He bit his lip in concern. He wasn’t trained to handle animals with internal injuries. Dealing with Alteans and Galra with internal injuries was hard enough. If he wanted to make sure Chulatt was truly unhurt, Lance would need to find someone who knew a mouse’s anatomy.

Wherever that was.

They had to get out of here. Wherever here was. He really should figure that out. Taking a deep, steadying breath, Lance stood and hobbled over to the pilot seat. He held the little mouse close to his neck so he could feel the soft fur brush his skin as he sat down on the cushioned seat.

“Hey, Blue,” he said. “You awake, beautiful?”

 _“You call your Lion ‘beautiful?’”_ Keith asked. He sounded confused and curious.

Lance shrugged. “She is.”

He reached out and tapped the control console and a tick later the displays and lights lit up a soft blue. A smile bloomed on Lance’s face. This was good.

_“Red’s prettier.”_

Oh, Keith did not just say that. Blue grumbled her agreement and nudged his mind with her own.

“You just wish she was,” Lance said, feeling too relieved to care about what he was saying. “My beautiful Blue lady could swim circles around your Red anytime.”

 _“I’ll take you up on that.”_ Keith paused, making a strange, cut off sound. _“As soon as we get out of here.”_

“Keith?” Lance said hesitantly. “Are you okay?”

When the red paladin didn’t answer right away, Lance felt his relief suddenly drown in fear and concern.

“Keith?” he called. “Keith are you hurt?”

_“I’ve been worse.”_

That was a yes, then.

“Where are you?” Lance asked, setting little Chulatt gently in his lap in a fold of his robes. “I’ll try to come to you.”

Keith scoffed. _“In case you haven’t noticed,”_ he made another one of those aborted sounds, _“we’re underwater, you idiot. Lions don’t swim.”_

Blue sniffed and purred, nudging Lance with her icy cold presence. Lance licked his lips and took hold of Blue’s controls. He slowly eased them forward and Blue jolted.

“Woah!”

 _“Lance?”_ Keith said. _“What happened?”_

“I’m fine,” Lance said, his smile returned.

The Blue Lion moved through the water with ease. The water slipped over her sleek body like it was made to do just that and nothing else. Blue was graceful and smooth and Lance adored her. Blue purred in pleasure, glorying in both the water washing over her and her paladin’s adoration. She was a very proud lady and she had every right to be.

Lance chuckled and shook his head in amazement. “You are one beautiful girl, aren’t you?”

_“Um…”_

“Not you,” Lance said dismissively. “You’re a pretty boy, but only Blue is a beautiful girl.”

_“…you’re so weird.”_

Lance grinned and brought Blue around for yet another loop, testing her reaction times in her new aquatic surroundings. “Yes well, this weird Druid is going to come get you in my swimming Lion,” he said. “Where are you?”

 _“You can move?”_ Keith gasped in audible shock.

“Yes, I can,” Lance said. His head still hurt and his body still ached, but he was too excited to care. Yet. “Want me to rub it in?” he teased.

 _“Does it really matter?”_ Keith grumbled. _“You’re going to anyway.”_

“Well, you’re not wrong,” Lance said happily. Bringing Blue back to the ocean floor, he patted her console proudly. “Anyway, turns out Blue moves through water almost better than she moves through space.”

_“That’s ridiculous.”_

Lance snorted and rolled his eyes. “You’re just jealous.”

_“And you snorted.”_

Not amused. “Smeg,” Lance huffed.

 _“You say that a lot,”_ Keith grumbled. “ _What does that even mean_?”

He made a hissing sound and Lance’s eyebrows dropped low in worry. Lance brought the Blue Lion in a slow, smooth turn through the water. A few quick commands and both Lance and Blue began scanning the ocean floor around them for Keith and the Red Lion.

“Look out your view screen,” Lance said, his eyes flicking around the ground through the dim water. “Can you see us?”

Keith gave a weak laugh. _“Can’t really move right now,”_ he said.

That did not sound good. Swallowing back his growing anxiety, Lance bit his lip.

“Blue, can you track the Red Lion’s signal?” he asked.

Blue tried to activate that system, but whined, swishing her tail in displeasure when red symbols flashed across Lance’s screen.

“Guess that’s a no,” he sighed. Blue crooned her apology and Lance shook his head slightly, sending her soothing thoughts. “It’s okay, beautiful. You tried.”

 _“Any idea where we are?”_ Keith asked wearily.

Lance shook his head, smacking himself mentally when he remembered Keith couldn’t see him. “No idea,” he said aloud. “Those systems are down as well. Maybe I could figure it out if we can get to the surface. How’s Red?”

Lance gnawed his lower lip through the silence. Keith was probably checking his Lion’s systems just like Lance had. No need to worry too much. Hopefully.

“Keith?” he called.

 _“She’s awake,”_ the red paladin said. _“Her emergency beacon is on, but it’s not at full power.”_ He made an odd huffing sound. _“It must have been damaged when we fell here.”_

Lance pressed his lips together in a thin line. “What happened?” he wondered aloud. “The solar barrier was down. We should’ve been able to wormhole out with no problem.”

Keith said nothing and the silence began to stretch.

“Keith?” Lance called. “You still there?”

 _“Hm? Yeah.”_ He sounded awful.

The Blue Lion swiveled her head back and forth, scanning the sea floor for any sign of the Red Lion. There were lumps here and there and little critters crawling and darting through the waters around them. But none of them were the Red Lion. Lance felt fear begin to crawl up his spine.

“Keith?” he said. “I need you to keep talking, okay? I can’t open a video link to the Red Lion so I can’t see you. I need you to keep talking.”

Keith groaned and Lance could detect hints of pain mixed in the annoyance. _“Whatever.”_

Get him talking. Talk about what? Ideas! Blue! Chulatt! He needed ideas!

_:Water?:_

Lance tilted his head. That was as a good idea as any. He sent thoughts of gratitude and calm to the little mouse in his lap as he continued his search.

“Water. Do you like water?” Lance asked.

 _“Mm, it’s okay, I guess,”_ Keith said. _“Never was big into oceans.”_

“Wow, really?” Lance said. Not all of the surprise in his voice was contrived. “I love the ocean. I was raised in the sea.”

Keith huffed. _“So what? You saying you’re a fish?”_

Lance blinked and felt a wavering smile work its way onto his face. “I’m not sure what a fish is. But, um, yes?”

Another huff and this time Lance was sure it was a laugh. _“Of course you are. Regular fish out of water.”_

With no context, that phrase made no sense. Whatever. Just keep talking. “So you don’t like water. What do you like?” Lance asked.

Nothing. He wanted to curse, but Keith would hear it over the open communication and Lance didn’t want to worry the red paladin. But this whole thing was beginning to try Lance’s patience. Even with Blue’s increased agility in the water, she was having no luck finding the Red Lion. The dim light of the water was perfect for Lance’s eyes and even _that_ hadn’t helped him find the Red Lion either.

Wait. Lance was assuming the Red Lion had sunk all the way to the sea floor. But what if it hadn’t?

Abruptly, Lance pulled the Blue Lion’s controls back, feeling Blue arch into a steep climb towards the surface. Keith was still underwater because he mentioned that. But if the Red Lion wasn’t on the sea floor or on dry land, then the only place Lance and Blue hadn’t actively checked were the towering natural stone pillars reaching for the semi frozen surface.

“Keith?” Lance prompted. “No oceans. So preferences?”

 _“You know,”_ Keith said and _frell_ he sounded tired. Stay awake, Keith. Dear Encompassing Universe, keep Keith awake. _“You never did… tell me what a ‘smeg’ was.”_

“Wh-what?” Lance asked, his mind trying to keep up with the strange flow of the conversation while looking for the Red Lion.

Wait. What was that? There on that ledge up there. The Blue Lion tilted her head back as far as it would go and swam up to get a better look. Please be the Red Lion. Please be the Red Lion.

 _“Smeg,”_ Keith repeated.

He sounded like he was falling asleep. Frell, _no!_

_“What’s it… mean?”_

Watery light flickered on the lump on the ledge just right and Lance felt his heart flutter with hope. It was. Thank the ‘Verse. It _was!_ He’d found Keith!

“It-it, um, it’s the rear end,” Lance said, pushing Blue up through the water towards. “You know, the part most life forms po-”

 _“Ugh, gross. I get it. Fuck. Don’t say it,”_ Keith groaned.

Lance laughed in both relief and amusement. “What? Don’t like that word?” he teased, bringing the Blue Lion onto the ledge next to Red. “Got a better one for me?”

Keith made a weak, breathless sound that Lance sincerely hoped was a laugh. _“Yeah,”_ Keith said softly. Too softly. _“Ass.”_

“Good to know,” Lance said, trying to scan the Red Lion with Blue’s few working systems. “I’m here, Keith. Blue and I are going to get you out of here, okay?”

_“…found me?”_

Lance tried to keep his smile up. Blue’s scans weren’t giving him much but what he did see wasn’t good. He needed to get to Keith in person to take care of him. But he couldn’t do that as long as they were underwater. Lance wasn’t sure if he was in shallow enough water to avoid issues with the water pressure and he wouldn’t risk flooding the Red Lion’s cockpit just to satisfy his curiosity.

“We’re going to get you and Red to the surface, okay?” Lance said. “Just hang on.”

Keith hummed and Lance’s heart skipped with fear. He made Blue bow and slip her body underneath the Red Lion’s. It wasn’t perfect, but hopefully the awkward position would hold long enough to get them out of the water and onto some form of land. At this point, Lance would settle for a thick slab of ice. Anything as long as he could get to Keith.

“Keith?” he said, angling Blue up for yet another steep climb with Red resting on her shoulders. “Hold on.”

He didn’t get a response and it took all of Lance’s self-control _not_ to speed up. If he went too fast, Blue would lose her tenuous hold on the Red Lion and that was unacceptable. They would have to wait until they were closer to the surface.

Almost.

Almost.

There!

He kicked Blue’s thrusters into full power and they burst out of the water. Blue slapped her paws out, sharp claws digging into a thick sheet of ice and hauling herself up out of the water. The Red Lion slid from her shoulders, falling limp to the ice.

Lance didn’t wait for Blue to sit down before running to the back of the cockpit and down the ramp in her open mouth. The cold air battered his unprotected face and hands, but he didn’t care. With Chulatt still held in his palms, Lance ran across the ice and snow to the Red Lion. Red’s mouth was closed, but there was enough clearance at the back of her jaw for Lance to squeeze through.

He pulled his hood up and tucked little Chulatt’s shivering body on his shoulder by his neck. He felt tiny claws latch on his skin as he climbed Red’s massive jaw. His body still ached, but he was a Druid and this _was_ something he trained for. _This_ he knew.

Live. Fight. Protect. Survive. _Protect._

He pulled himself up onto Red’s cheek and dropped in her mouth through the opening at the back of her jaw. It took some work but he managed to climb into her cockpit despite the awkward angle.

“Keith!” he called, pulling himself up onto the cockpit floor. “Keith!”

The Red Lion’s lights were on, but dim. She was obviously running on backup power. But that didn’t hold Lance’s attention for long. He scanned the small compartment for the red paladin. He didn’t see Keith until he stepped into the cockpit proper. The red paladin was slumped in the pilot’s chair. Blood dripped from a split lip and down his neck from somewhere inside his helmet.

“Keith!”

Lance slid between the pilot seat and the side console, dropping to his knees when dark violet cracked open and looked up at him. After a tick, Keith smiled and Lance was floored.

“Hey there, you ass,” Keith said.

Lance’s lips twitched in return.

Then Keith closed his eyes and sighed and Lance felt cold.

“Keith? Keith? Keith!”


	30. Orient

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lance figures out where he is and what to do about it and Keith wakes up a _very_ unhappy camper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** And with this chapter, I have passed the 50k word goal for NaNoWriMo. Aw _heck_ yes! Whoop!
> 
> Couple quick things: First, this chapter is a transition chapter so be aware of that. I hope you like my take on everything. I'm looking forward to some more good, ole' fashioned worldbuilding. Particularly when it'll lead up to klance.
> 
> Second, if anyone has any questions about the origins of the names of places in this chapter, feel free to ask and I'll answer what I can. If anyone recognizes the origins of the names, kudos! It'll be tied in later. Promise. But the variations in the spelling of some places is deliberate. 10,000 years is a long time and pronunciations as well as spellings of things have a reliable tendency to change.

Asleep. Thank the Encompassing Universe, he was only asleep. For a tick or two there, Lance hadn’t been sure.

At least it was warm in the Red Lion’s cockpit; warmer than Blue’s cockpit, anyway. Blue made a hurt sound and Lance had the distinct mental image of a giant cat folding her ears back and crouching sadly. Wincing, Lance sent a mental wave of gentle reassurance her way. It wasn’t her fault she was the epitome of the water elemental quintessence. She was what she was.

But Keith needed heat and the Red Lion was the best source of heat in the immediate area. Lance would have to check to be sure, but he was afraid the Red Lion might be the _only_ source of consistent heat. He really hoped that wasn’t true.

He wanted to take Keith’s paladin helmet off, but he wasn’t sure what would happen if he did. He wasn’t familiar with the anatomy of whatever race Keith and the other paladins claimed to be. He guessed they were close to Altean and possibly Galra, but he had no way of knowing for sure and digging around in someone’s innards tended to be a bad thing.

Besides, Lance didn’t trust Red not to hurt him if he made Keith’s wounds worse. If Red was even a fraction as possessive as Blue, then Lance wanted none of it. Alright, so he needed alternatives. Lance was trained for emergency situations as a field medic so he could sew wounds and diagnose poisons and toxins, but surgery was beyond him. He was a Druid, not a professional medic which meant he would have to find one.

He lifted his gaze to the barren expanse of ice outside the Red Lion’s view screen and bit his lip. He couldn’t see much from here. He needed a higher vantage point to get a good look around. With a sigh, he plucked little Chulatt from his shoulder feeling the faint _:…pain…:_ flutter in his mind. He placed the little mouse in Keith’s lap, patting its head tenderly before standing.

“I’ll be right back,” he said.

The mouse squeaked and cuddled close to Keith’s red and white paladin armor. Satisfied, Lance made his way to the back of the cockpit and climbed out into the Red Lion’s mouth. A quick jump and he caught the metal edge of the Red Lion’s jaw with his hands and hauled himself up, wriggling through the opening so he was completely out in the frigid cold air.

Honestly, it wasn’t too bad. He’d been to places like this with the Oceanborne on Vuana during the height of the dark phoebs, but not often. The ice flows were dangerous to navigate without a skilled guide leading their fleet. Glaciers loomed, icebergs lingered deceptively complacent just above the water’s surface, waterways thawed and refroze, and not all ice was trustworthy. It was rare for everyone to return from a trek onto the ice during the thaw.

Lance had taken part in some treks on ice and water during winter but never during the thaw. Without knowing what season it was on this world, he didn’t know how far he should trust the ice beneath his feet. He couldn’t leave Keith. He wouldn’t do that. He had to protect him.

…oh …frak…

Lance had chosen a charge of his own volition. Not good. Druids weren’t allowed to choose their own charges. It could blind them to the mission at hand and result in the loss of all the lives under their official care. Besides, Lance owed the red paladin a good screaming session for attacking the Central Command System’s rings. He did _not_ owe the smeg… er, ass protection.

And yet… He _wanted_ to protect Keith. Quiznak.

Lance hung his head wearily. He would regret this at some point. But not now. Right now, he needed to find help.

Climbing to his feet, Lance pulled his Druidic robes close to hold in the warmth clinging to him before the cold wind blew it away. His blue eyes scanned the horizon for any signs of civilization. With any luck, they had crash landed on a world advanced enough to have technology capable of contacting help.

Who should he call?

Lance sighed, a puff of mist forming by his lips. He didn’t know who to call. The Galra? They’d slaughter him as a traitor to Emperor Zarkon and Keith for being a paladin of Voltron. The Druids? The same thing most likely. The princess and the Voltron team? If they were still in one piece and not flung across the universe like Keith and Lance had been, then that would be preferable. But possible? Eh… The Blade of Marmora? Lance grimaced. He may know the name of one of their operatives, but Lance doubted that would mean much in the grand scheme of things.

Voltron it was then.

Heaving a sigh, Lance turned in a slow circle, studying the landscape around them. Ice stretched as far as he could see in towards the darkest horizons. But where this planet’s star hung low in the sky, the ice fractured and floated away into a rough sea.

There was something on the horizon, towering up from the surface of the ocean. High clouds and the colorful haze of sunset obscured some of the tall shadow. The thing wavered like a mirage so perhaps it was beyond the horizon but it was familiar… It was…

It couldn’t be.

“Yggdrasil?” he breathed, blue eyes wide in despairing awe.

It was. He _knew_ it was. Home. He was _home._ No. He couldn’t be home. If Zarkon’s minions discovered him here, then Lance didn’t want to think of the terrible things that could happen. What had his people heard? What had they been told? Did they know Lance had betrayed Zarkon? Or had they been told he betrayed the Galra Empire and all of the oaths he swore to protect it?

He was no oathbreaker. He didn’t want to die.

He didn’t matter. Not right now. Lance was injured yes. He had a concussion, yes. No doubt. But he wasn’t in dire need of medical assistance. Keith was. Chulatt was. They were his charges now. He may have broken taboo and chosen them, but that didn’t change the fact that he lived to protect them now.

And strangely, he didn’t regret that. He was afraid -petrified actually- but at least he still had something to fight for, something to live for now. Fighting Zarkon was a good reason, but it wasn’t… It didn’t fulfill his life as a Druid. Druids _needed_ something to protect. Without that, they tended to wither away into insanity or despair.

Lance would not let that happen to him. No way in frell.

Taking a deep breath, Lance considered his options. If that really was Yggdrasil, then this planet was Vuana and the ocean was the Uryd. Lance knew the Uryd well. He’d been raised to the rhythm of its waves, both above and below the surface. He knew of its dangers and its secrets. He knew where it was relatively safe to sail and where to avoid at all costs.

If Yggdrasil was currently Starward, then Lance was in the Ice Fields. Strange. He didn’t remember the Ice Fields reaching so far Starward. But then, he hadn’t been home for longer than a few short visits between his Druidic training in deca-phoebs. He’d probably missed a lot.

Either way, this was Vuana. This was home. He had the advantage here. He knew where to look for help. It would take a bit because he didn’t have his myr-whistle, but he and Blue could probably handle this.

Blue growled, her presence suddenly diverted by something out in the Uryd’s waves. Curious, Lance followed her gaze. There, still too far to make out clearly, was a blot of brown and gold moving towards them at speed. Lance grinned. He didn’t have to see it clearly to know what it was.

That grin quickly faded. The Lions. Lance turned to Blue and the fallen Red in dawning fear. He had to hide them. If his people found the Lions of Voltron, they would know what they were and attempt to either destroy them or turn them over to Zarkon. Neither option was acceptable.

But where could Lance possible hide Blue? The ice was unforgiving and treacherous which was an effective deterrent, but it wouldn’t hide a gigantic Blue Lion. Don’t even get him started on trying to hide the bright Red Lion that stood out against the ice like blood on water.

Blue purred and Lance gave her an odd look through the corner of his eye. Was she making fun of him? She snorted and yes, Lance was sure she was making fun of him. She flowed over his sense of self, frosting every surface of his mind with her feline laughter. Lance blinked in confusion, then looked down and slapped a hand over his face.

She was the Blue Lion and they were on the ocean. Blue would be perfectly fine. She crooned and nuzzled him. However much she didn’t want him to worry about her, she loved it when he did.

Well, Lance didn’t need to worry about Blue, but he did need to worry about the Red Lion. Blue may be made of the quintessence of the purest water and ice, but Lance was certain the Red Lion was made from fire and heat. How would Red handle the icy cold waters below the ice?

Blue purred again and pressed her huge metallic muzzle against his side, bumping him. His frown softened and he leaned against her. He had to trust her. Blue would take care of her pridemate so he could take care of his.

Lance blushed and smacked Blue’s nose gently. Keith wasn’t his pridemate. He was… something else. Blue rolled her eyes in his head and leaned away from his touch.

Lance huffed, shivering in the cold wind. “I’ll get Keith and Chulatt out of Red,” he murmured half to himself. “But I don’t think they,” he nodded to the growing dark blotch on Uryd’s waves, “will believe it if they found Keith and me just sitting here with no ship.” Blue crooned a soft query and Lance grimaced. “They probably saw us fall from the sky. It would’ve been hard to miss.”

Blue bumped him with her nose, which he anticipated. But then she batted him with one of her huge paws, which he did _not_ expect, and he toppled over. The tone of Blue’s purrs made it very clear she was laughing at him.

Rude.

“I’m serious,” Lance said from where he’d landed on his sm- ass. “Trust me. It would be best if the most people _didn’t_ know we were here.”

Blue sniffed primly and sat back on her hind legs. A panel on her upper chest slid open and a long, narrow pod made from the same blue metal as the Blue Lion fell to the ice below. Lance blinked.

“Oh.” Well that was convenient. He eyed Blue suspiciously. “Should I be wondering what else you’re going to-“ he glanced at the pod significantly, “-give birth to?”

Blue snapped at him and sniffed.

“Whatever,” Lance grumbled, slipping back into the Red Lion. “Can you send out a beacon for the Castle of Lions?” he asked. “The faster we get out of here, the better.”

However much he would love to stay home and see his family, if Zarkon found out he was here…

“Just one question,” he said, looking at Blue’s pod. “How am I supposed to explain… that?”

* * *

Keith woke to a soft whirring sound and warmth. Opening his eyes, he was greeted by a dim light and a figure in a hooded brown cloak leaning over him. A flash of eye shine from beneath the hood and Keith lashed out with a wild punch. He didn’t expect to connect so when he did, he cried out in pain.

His ribs did _not_ approve of that move and neither did that crazy Druid if the shocked grunt was anything to go by. Serves him right.

“You ass,” Keith hissed, cradling his aching chest. No armor. He wasn’t wearing his armor! “What did you do to m- _MM?!”_

The fucker! Keith tried to peel the hand covering his mouth but the Druid was stronger than he looked. And damn it, Keith _knew_ that. What the hell was going on here?

“Is everything alright, Master?” someone Keith couldn’t see called.

Lance nodded and said in a tone that made Keith’s hackles stand on end, “All is well. Return to your duties.”

No. No _don’t_ go away. Get back here and make the crazy Druid let him _go!_

He narrowed his eyes at Lance and deliberately licked the silencing hand. To Keith immense annoyance, the Druid just lifted an eyebrow and stared down at him with an unimpressed glare and kept his hand there. Damn it. Licking _always_ sent the idiots running. Why not Lance?

Oh right. Because he was already crazy. Figures.

Keith matched Lance’s stare with a vicious glare of his own as the footsteps moved away from them. When they were alone, Lance lifted his hand.

“You mother _fu-”_ and the hand was back. _Fuck!_ Why couldn’t he get it off?

“If you’re going to talk to me or rant or curse or whatever, keep your voice down,” Lance whispered fiercely. “They don’t trust us as it is. Don’t give them more reason to doubt us.”

Carefully, Lance moved his hand away from Keith’s mouth but kept it close in case Keith tried screaming. Furious and hurting, Keith fumed.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he demanded, keeping his voice low just in case. “Where are we?”

“We’re on Vuana,” the Druid replied quietly, glancing up at what Keith assumed was a door. “It’s… It’s a remote planet in the Galra Empire. There aren’t many people who know about this place. We’ll be safe here for a while.”

“Yeah right,” Keith hissed. “Where’s Red?”

“Blue’s taking care of Red,” Lance said, dropping his gaze so he could looked directly into Keith’s eyes. “I promise Blue and I will do everything in our power to protect the Red Lion.”

“And why the hell should I trust you?” Keith growled feeling the heat of both his own and the carefully banked fury of Red burning in his chest. “You betrayed us.”

“I didn’t,” Lance said and it took all of Keith’s minimal self-control to _not_ pummel the bastard where he sat. “I was never loyal to you to begin with. I swore no oaths, I implied nothing, and I never bound myself to you or your team in any way other than the truce with the green paladin.”

Keith scoffed. “A truce is binding, you dimwit,” he snapped. “You promise to have a ceasefire long enough to talk or do whatever it is the truce was made for and-”

“That’s not what a truce in the Galra Empire is,” Lance countered.

Blue eyes flickered to the door Keith still couldn’t see before Lance shifted to a more comfortable position on the bed. Bed? Where were they?

“A ‘truce’ as we know it,” Lance said, leaning back so he no longer hovered over Keith’s face, “is an agreement between two or more parties to coexist in a temporary peace long enough to conduct an equivalent exchange of goods and go our own way.” He shrugged. “The goods can be anything from information to slaves and the peace can last a few doboshes or deca-phoebs. As long as neither side breaks the truce, it holds. It’s shameful to break a truce. No true Galra would shame themselves by doing something like that.”

“Then I guess it’s a good thing you aren’t a Galra,” Keith sneered as he watched Lance roll his eyes in annoyance. “You made a truce with Pidge?” Keith challenged. “Right. Fine. You broke it the moment you sided with that Druid and fought me.”

Lance shook his head, the fabric of his hood shadowing his face. “No, I didn’t,” Lance said patiently. “The truce I had was with Pidge, not you or the whole team. I never broke it. I just…” Lance pressed his lips together and something flashed across his eyes too fast for Keith to identify. “I just wanted to go home.”

“Yeah? Well so do I,” Keith said, relaxing back into the mattress beneath him. “So do all of us. Shiro? Pidge? Hunk? They never got to say goodbye to their families before they got tangled up in this war. At least I don’t have anything left to miss.”

Blue eyes darted to his and Keith met them squarely. “What do you mean?” the Druid asked carefully.

“I don’t have anything to lose,” Keith said simply. “If I never make it back home, there won’t be anyone to miss me.”

This time, Keith did recognize the emotion in the Druid’s eyes, and he hated it. “Don’t you _dare_ pity me,” Keith hissed angrily. “As long as I don’t have anyone to miss me, I don’t have any weaknesses for bastards like you to exploit.”

Lance winced and looked away. “I guess you’re lucky then,” he said softly. “I do have a family I can lose. If Za-” He stopped himself and glanced back at the door, listening. “If Zarkon finds out I’m here,” he whispered, “he’ll tear this place apart to find me. If he finds you, he’ll get both of us. One of us is bad enough. Both of us?” Lance pressed his lips together in a grim line and shook his head.

“Speaking of this freaking place,” Keith said, pressing a hand to his still aching ribs, “where is this?”

Lance blinked. “Vuana,” he said. “It’s my… home planet.”

Keith stiffened. Oh shit. An entire planet of crazy Druids. Fan-fucking-tastic. His day was already looking up. Someone just shoot him and get it over with.


	31. Cryptid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Keith isn't pleased, is _absolutely, positively, amazingly_ pleased, and not okay with... any of this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** Hey y'all. Sorry I didn't update last night. I reached my NaNo goal and decided to take yesterday off and read for a bit. I watched the first couple episodes of Season 4 and Narti! No! My girl!
> 
> I'm not okay, but hey. That's normal. Enjoy this roller-coaster of emotions chapter. ^_^

“You told them _what_ now?” Keith said, his violet eyes narrowed in annoyance.

“I told them you’re my charge,” Lance said, gazing at the view screens along the walls of the room. “They won’t risk taking you from me. No one in their right mind separates a Druid from their charge.”

Strange but useful. “Okay,” Keith said, mulling over that. “So I’ve got a barnacle Druid stuck to my ass. Anything else I should be aware of?”

The Druid turned from the view screens and gave the red paladin an odd look. “Um, what’s a barnacle?” he asked.

Keith groaned and sank deeper into the blankets, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Why do you just latch onto the most random stuff? What about the whole ‘anything else I should be aware of’ part?”

Blue eyes blinked. “I asked what a barnacle was.”

“Ugh.” This guy. Really. Whatever. “A barnacle is a thing that gets stuck to the bottom of ships in the ocean,” Keith explained. “Now, what else should I-”

“Huh. I’ve never heard of barnacles before,” Lance mumbled thoughtfully.

Do not think about strangling Lance.

“Are you even going to answer my question or are you just deliberately being selectively deaf?” Keith said. When the Druid didn’t reply right away, Keith looked over at Lance’s hooded form. “Lance?”

Brown robed shoulders drooped. “Look,” the Druid said, “you won’t like it, but you have to trust me right now.”

Keith narrowed his eyes but didn’t interrupt. He watched as Lance’s hooded face glanced surreptitiously at the door before dropping to Keith’s bed. After a minute, Lance sighed and walked back to sit on the edge of the bed. Leaning over so his hood shadowed his face, Lance gazed down at Keith’s face.

“They saw something fall through the atmosphere and crash into the sea,” Lance said softly. “That isn’t something we can hide. So I told them what they expected to hear.”

Keith grimaced. “And that would be?”

“That you are an agent of the Galra Empire and that I’m charged with your protection,” Lance replied, grimly holding Keith’s violet gaze with his own midnight blue.

“You did _what?”_ Keith hissed. “I am _not_ a-”

“You are here,” Lance said in a fierce whisper. “This world is part of the Galra Empire. It has been for the past 10,000 deca-phoebs and is unlikely to change in the near future. Our Lions are damaged and unable to signal for help and you’re injured.”

“I’m fine.”

“The quiznak you are,” Lance snapped, leaning close to Keith, his eyes flashing in anger. “You have at least two cracked ribs, one possibly broken clean through, a concussion, and a split lip. Not to mention the any number of internal injuries you have that I’m unaware of.”

That… Well, when the Druid put it like that… Keith shifted, regretting it almost instantly when a sharp pain stabbed him in the side. He grunted, wincing. But he didn’t miss the frown and concern in glittering in Lance’s blue eye.

Why concern?

“Try not to move too much,” Lance said.

He adjusted his position so he could brace one hand on the mattress and hold the other over Keith’s aching chest. Lance pressed gently pulling a pained groan from the red paladin. But the Druid breathed a sigh of relief nonetheless.

“Good. It’s not as bad as it was before,” he said.

Lance tugged the blanket covering Keith’s chest down and pressed two fingers against the bandages there. The pressure made Keith wince as the Druid felt along what he assumed was the edge of a large bruise hidden by the bandages.

“Can you breathe easier?” Lance asked.

Keith blinked, eyeing the Druid in confusion. Why was Lance worried about whether or not he could breathe? Why was Lance taking care of him at all? With these thoughts running through his head, the red paladin took a careful breath, cataloguing all of his aches and pains as he let the air out slowly.

“It’s tight,” he admitted, resting one of his own hands over the bandages. “But it’s not too bad.”

The Druid sighed. “Good,” he murmured. “That’s good.” Lance sat back and ran a hand through the brown hair just visible beneath the hood. “I was a little afraid a rib might have punctured one of your lungs at first. I’m not trained to deal with a wound like that.”

Keith nodded hesitantly. He knew the feeling. All Galaxy Garrison cadets were trained in the basics of medical assistance. But that training mostly consisted of CPR, triaging, and stabilizing patients until someone with more training could come and take care of the problem. Keith only knew how to set a bone because of a particularly embarrassing incident involving himself, a rock, a cactus, and a lizard. Not necessarily in that order.

Still…

“You probably won’t like what I’m about to tell you,” the Druid said suddenly, slicing through Keith’s wandering thoughts with ease. “But I need you to hear me out before arguing. Can you do that?”

It took a minute for Keith to realize the Druid was actually waiting for him to answer. This really must be serious then. Oh shit. He braced himself and nodded.

“Okay,” he said, holding Lance’s gaze. “I’m listening.”

The Druid swallowed nervously. “I told my people you were an agent unofficially assigned to Lotor,” Lance said softly. “He’s far enough from the current main political circles that one stray operative going missing would most likely go unnoticed. Emperor Zarkon occasionally sends spies into his son’s ranks to keep an eye o-”

“Wait, wait, what?” Keith said, eyes wide in stunned disbelief. “Zarkon what? He has a _what?_ ”

Lance blinked, flinching back at the red paladin’s raised voice. “U-um, I don’t understand. What do you mean?”

“You said Zarkon has a… a _son?”_ Keith said. “Since when?”

“Um, since before I was born?” Lance said, his voice rising in a question. “Prince Lotor may be Zarkon’s son, but he isn’t a major player in politics. He never has been. The emperor practically exiled him.” The Druid huffed. “Why keep the person capable of dethroning you around when you’re effectively immortal?” he muttered under his breath.

Keith was still reeling from the fact that Zarkon - _the_ Emperor Zarkon that all of the paladins and Lions of Voltron had been fighting since this insanity began- had a freaking _son._ That meant Zarkon had to’ve had… Oh… Oh shit that’s disgusting. Brain bleach! Fuck! Gross!

Keith groaned, covering his face to hide his sickened expression. “Okay. Keep talking. Just talk about anything so I can get the thought of Zarkon and… Ugh. Just distract me.”

He heard the Druid make a horrified sound followed by what sounded suspiciously like a dry heave. “Ugh. By the ‘Verse, why did you have to get that image in my head?” he moaned.

 _“I_ did that?” Keith gasped, removing his hands and glaring up at Lance incredulously. “Dude, _you_ were the one who mentioned Zarkon having a son in the first place.”

“Well, yes. It’s part of you-” Lance shut up and rubbed his eyes wearily. “Alright. Alright. Whatever. Just… Just keep listening, okay?”

“I don’t know. Will anything else make me this sick?” Keith asked rhetorically.

Lance sat up and shot Keith an exasperated glare before huffing and crossing his arms. “See if I ever cover for you again, you quiznak,” he muttered. “Anyway, as I was saying before you injected that thoroughly repulsive image in my head-”

“Not my fault.”

Lance rolled his eyes and tossed his head so his hood slid further back revealing his dark brown hair and blue eyes. “You’re an agent unofficially assigned to Lotor,” he continued, ignoring Keith’s rude interruption. “You were chosen because you aren’t full Galra so the chances of you being caught were low.”

Keith’s eyes blazed. “I’m not Galra _at all!”_ he hissed.

“Not visibly, no,” Lance said, nodding. His eyes locked on Keith’s and held them, shining with a sharp edge. “Which makes you the best choice to spy on Lotor and why you won’t stand out too much here.”

That wasn’t what Keith was expecting to hear. He thought carefully about Lance’s words before speaking. “Okay, I’ll bite. Why would _not_ looking like a Galra make me a good choice to spy on this Lotor person? And what does this have to do with your people?” he added.

Lance lifted his eyes to the view screens on the wall behind Keith’s head significantly. “Because the Galra don’t know about this place,” he said. “It’s kept strictly classified. Only the emperor, the Druids, and a select few in the Galra High Command know about this world. That’s why we have peace here.” He grimaced. “However tenuous I’m beginning to see it is.”

Curious, Keith rolled his head back to follow the Druid’s gaze but couldn’t see over the curved, metal casing that served as the headboard of the bed. Taking care not to jostle his bandaged side too much, Keith reached up with his left hand to grab the metal and haul himself up. The Druid helped steady him so he didn’t strain his injuries more than he had to.

It hurt, but damn if Keith was going to let a little annoying pain keep him from doing what he wanted to do. He took a second to just breathe and actually look around the room they were in. It wasn’t very large. It was longer than it was wide with the bed lying in the middle of the room.

No. Not a bed. It was a pod Keith realized. Now that he could see it clearly, he recognized the curvature of the metal casing at the foot of the pod-bed. It matched the curved casing at the head when Keith sat with a low ledge running the length of it. The cushion Keith currently sat on served as the mattress with a thin blanket resting on the red paladin’s legs.

Why was he in a pod? He shift one of his legs and the sharp sting in his side made him feel stupid. Oh. Right. But why would a people loyal to the Galra take care of his injuries?

“Keith?” Lance asked, resting a hand on his upper arm.

Keith lifted his gaze to the Druid with a confused frown. Blue eyes studied him warily, scanning his face for any signs of fear or, more likely, anger. Honestly, Keith was still mad -try furious- but he was beginning to understand that this wasn’t the best time or place to vent his frustrations. Besides, he’d gotten in a good, satisfying punch earlier so he was feeling somewhat better.

The wall behind the Druid shimmered and Keith squinted at it. He blinked. It wasn’t a wall at all. It was a particle barrier. It wasn’t transparent like the particle barriers surrounding the Castle of Lions, the Lions themselves, or the Galra ships. Instead, it was a clouded blue with the hexagonal barrier cells glistening a soft, dim gold.

A quick look at the other three walls of the room showed the same cloudy blue and gold barriers. Even the far wall where Keith knew the door should be was a barrier, even though he couldn’t see any obvious door. That meant these walls were probably temporary and could be raised and lowered as needed, much like privacy curtains in a hospital.

Keith winced. He didn’t like thinking about hospitals. Hospitals never meant good things. Oh well. Maybe the back wall would show something interesting. With a grimace, he allowed Lance to help him shift his body and turn around to look behind him. Immediately, his eyes widened and his jaw dropped in awe.

He’d known the back wall was a view screen because he’d seen the lights from it change and shift against Lance’s brown robes. But looking at it now, or rather looking at what it _showed_ now took his breath away.

This was real life. Right? Because if this was real life, then that meant those things out there were…

“Mermaids,” he breathed, staring at the finned, vaguely humanoid shapes swimming smoothly through the water. “Those are… mermaids.”

“Myr,” Lance corrected, giving Keith a vaguely suspicious look before continuing. “They are the Myr. Distant cousins of our people. They often accompany the Oceanborne on their travels to and from Yggdrasil.”

Keith choked. “Yggdrasil?” he said, and since when could his voice break like that? He was way past puberty, thank you very much.

“Yes,” Lance said, now staring at Keith with open suspicion. “We’re in its roots right now. It’s the most secure location I could think of to hide you while you recovered.”

Keith’s mouth worked but he could not for the life of him find the right words to say. This was… Holy shit, this was _everything._ There were _mermaids_ here which meant they were underwater but they were also in the roots of the Norse fucking Tree of Life and how the freaking fuck was that possible like what the shit?!

“We’re underwater?” he said and no, that did not sound very intelligent but fuck it who cared there were _cryptids_ here?!

“Well, yes,” Lance said and Keith couldn’t even feel offended by that very obvious ‘no-duh’ answer. “The Myr can’t breathe air for very long. Having Freya underwater in Yggdrasil’s roots made the most sense.”

 _“Fucking Freya?!”_ Keith whirled - _holy shit ow!-_ and grabbed Lance by the shoulders and shook him. “You- How- The fuck man. Flippin’ Freya? As in the Norse goddess of fertility and oh my god oh holy _shit_ this is fantastic what the hell _ow_ cramp damn.”

And yeah, Lance was looking very freaked out right now and Keith couldn’t exactly blame him because Keith wasn’t exactly in control of his faculties but in his defense _holy shit cryptids!_ Keith was living a cryptozoologist’s wet dream without the mess and he was absolutely, positively, utterly _thrilled!_

But at the same time, what the actual _fuck?_

“You live here,” Keith said. Lance nodded, eyes wide and more than a little disturbed. “In Yggdrasil?” Lance nodded again, this time gulping. “And there are mermaids.” Lance’s eyes were probably a little too wide to be healthy but he nodded. “And Freya.” Lance really wasn’t looking okay right now. “And this is real.”

Lance looked like he was stuck between staring at Keith in incredulity and high tailing it out of the room in abject terror. Not that Keith would let him get away because _cryptids were fucking real!_ but the fact remained.

“U-um…” Lance gulped. “Yes?”

Keith wasn’t usually a betting man, but cryptids were real and fuck it he’d bet his entire life’s savings -what little he still had back on Earth anyway- on the nearest pachinko machine right now.

“Um,” Lance said, placing his hands over Keith’s and tugging them away from their death grip to no avail, “why are you… are you okay?”

Hell, Keith was fabulous! “I am very okay,” he said, probably grinning like a maniac if Lance’s paling face was anything to go by. “I still don’t trust you as far as I can throw you, but yeah. Yeah, I am extremely very okay right now.”

Lance made a stuttered movement that was probably supposed to be a nod and leaned away from the red paladin. “Right,” he said slowly. “Good, because it’s getting a little hard to breathe?”

Startled, Keith instantly let go of Lance’s collar and flushed. That… He probably should havehandled that better, he thought awkwardly. He ran a hand through his hair and winced. Oh yeah, he was going to be feeling his ribs ache for a while because of that stupid stunt he’d just pulled. Wincing, Keith glanced at Lance and his blush darkened.

“Uh, sorry… about that,” he said awkwardly. “I don’t usually… I’m usually better at controlling… Well, no, that’s lie. I just, um, sorry.”

On the bright side, Keith couldn’t see white completely surrounding Lance’s deep blue eyes anymore. On the down side, Lance was probably afraid of him now. A small part of him was proud of that because he really was still mad at the Druid for betraying Voltron and leaving him. But another, bigger part of Keith didn’t want to be feared because of his weird, personal obsessions.

He’d had a lot of time to himself out in the desert, okay? What else was he supposed to do between looking for Shiro and staying alive? Besides, the Internet had helped him come up with ideas to help him narrow down the Yellow Lion’s location. And if the Yellow Lion and aliens were real, then why not mermaids?

Which were real. Holy shit…

Keith slumped like he’d been punched in the gut. Mermaids were real. Mermaids were aliens, but they were _real_. And Yggdrasil was real and Freya was real and…

“Holy shit,” he whispered, leaning back against the pod’s casing so he could look out the view screen.

A soft squeak startled him from his spiraling thoughts and Keith looked back to see a tiny ball of light blue fluff on the Druid’s shoulder, nestled in the folds of the brown robe.

“You brought the mouse?” he said, not sure what else to say.

Lance gave him a flat look and patted the little mouse’s fur. “He was hurt too, you know,” Lance groused. “I couldn’t just leave him.”

“You left me.”

Lance blinked and Keith deliberately turned his back to the Druid. He hadn’t meant for that to slip out. Clearly, he was more tired than he thought he was. Fabric shuffled softly and Keith felt the pod’s cushion move beneath him as Lance changed positions.

“I just wanted to go home,” he heard Lance say quietly behind him.

For a while, Keith wasn’t sure how long, neither of them spoke. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, just tired and heavy.

“Um, before,” Lance said finally, “you acted…” Keith was really glad Lance couldn’t see the blush flooding back into his face. “You… How do you know about us?” the Druid finished.

Keith sighed. “I don’t,” he said.

“Don’t lie to me Keith,” Lance said fiercely. “This is important. How do you know about us? You need to tell me.”

“I’m not lying,” Keith said, half turning so he could lean on the pod casing and still see the mermaids swimming on the view screen. But he could also keep Lance in the corner of his eye. “I don’t know anything about you.” Why did that make him feel weird? “I know about Yggdrasil and Freya and mermaids because we have stories about them back on Ea- my home planet.”

He flicked his eyes to Lance and wasn’t sure what to make of the pallor in the Druid’s face.

“What?” he asked.

Lance opened his mouth to speak, then closed it. His eyes were wide and fearful. “You have… stories… about us?” he murmured. “I thought…” He hunched over. “I thought your planet hadn’t come across anyone from other planets before Commander Sendak and I came.”

Keith frowned and shrugged, wincing when the motion tugged on his still sore ribs. “Well, if that were really true, then how did the Yellow Lion get there?” he asked.

“Well… Point.” Lance rubbed his neck thoughtfully, before glancing back at Keith. He licked his lips nervously. “You said something about… goddesses?”

Oh. “It’s nothing,” Keith said. “Just… Where I come from, we have stories, mythologies about lots of things.” He glanced back at Lance. “Some of those mythologies talk about a Tree of Life they called Yggdrasil and a goddess called Freya.” He paused, frowning as several things finally slid into place. “Freya. Yggdrasil. Vuana. If I’m thinking of the same thing, our people called Vuana, Vanaheim. It’s where the goddess Freya and her brother Frey came from.”

Lance’s brows scrunched over his eyes. “But… Freya and Frey aren’t people,” he said. “They’re places.”

Keith shrugged. “It’s a mythology,” he said. “Things... stories change over time. Ten thousand years is a long time.”

“That makes sense,” the Druid said after a moment. He shifted so he faced the particle barrier wall, dropping his gaze to his lap and fiddling with his hands. “For your own sake, don’t mention you know about this place to anyone here.”

Keith tilted his head to the Druid with a curious frown. “Why?”

“Because this place is hidden, like I said,” Lance said. “We keep it hidden. Anyone who isn’t approved to know about us is… removed.”

Blue eyes lifted, capturing Keith’s violet and the red paladin felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

“Removed?” he said. Lance nodded. Oh. Great. “Okay. But we’re already here.”

Again, Lance nodded. “Because you’re with me,” he said. “And you have some Altean in your blood.”

Keith stiffened. “I what?”

Lance’s blue eyes hardened. “I told you they think you’re half Galra,” he said.

Keith started to nod when- Oh. Oh! “You told them I’m half Altean?” he said.

The Druid winced, waving Keith quiet and shooting fearful glances at the far end of the particle barrier room. “Not so loud!” he hissed.

“But you-” Keith cut himself off and considered his options. He still wasn’t coming up with an answer that made complete sense. Partial sense, yes. But not complete sense. “I thought your world was hidden,” he said.

“It is,” Lance insisted.

“Then how would my being half Altean and half Galra be a good combination to spy on this Lotor guy?” Keith argued.

“Because he’s half Altean, too.”

…

Alright. Keith needed a nap. He had to be dreaming. Maybe when he woke up things would make more sense.

Not likely. But he could hope.

…

At least cryptids were real here. That was a small bright spot in this crazy insane world.


	32. Freya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lance worries, Keith is easily distracted, Lance is a distraction, and Keith doesn't like the implications of what he sees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** And thus we begin the introduction to Lance's family and the modern Altean/Vuanan culture. Let me know if you have any questions and I'll do my best to answer them, as long as they don't involve spoilers.
> 
> For anyone who's curious, I've based the visuals for Freya on the underwater Gungan city of Otoh Gunga from _Star Wars: Phantom Menace._ Not a great movie, but I did like the whole underwater, force field globe city. That was cool. However, the overall feel of Freya as far as lighting and aesthetic is more reminiscent of Atlantis from the TV show _Stargate: Atlantis_.
> 
> Also, I listened to the [ Stargate: Atlantis OST](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QPFrMDoCyCI&t=934s) on loop while writing this chapter. So if you want to get in the mood of Freya, Frey in future chapters, and Vuana as a whole, then give the music a listen. I'll probably be listening to this music video on loop while writing almost all of the Vuana-centric chapters. Just fyi.

Humans were incredibly weird. He already knew that from his time spying on the Voltron team from the vents. But watching Keith act like a child on a sugar high over the Myr of all things was boggling his mind. Thankfully, that burst of energy had succeeded in knocking the red paladin out for another stint in the healing pod.

At least now Lance wasn’t afraid for Keith’s life. When he’d first brought Keith in for a healing session, he’d been honestly afraid the red paladin would just stop breathing on him. Now, instead of pacing anxiously up and down the privacy room, Lance was leaning against the sealed pod watching Keith sleep peacefully within.

A slow, steady flow of quintessence pulsed through the pod’s systems. A faint halo of green quintessence surrounded Keith’s sleeping form, working on weaving what was broken back together with the stable presence of yellow quintessence backing it. Together, the two types of quintessence would mend the broken ribs and stabilize the natural rhythms of Keith’s body and quintessence.

Blue quintessence soothed and calmed, maintaining a safe film over Keith’s skin preventing the icy temperature from freezing him solid and killing him. The fact Keith was the Red Lion’s paladin and thus a wellspring of red quintessence helped keep his temperature warm, but it made it harder for the blue quintessence to do its job effectively. It was a typical problem with anyone specializing in red quintessence.

The black quintessence lit the pod’s systems with a soft violet glow, monitoring Keith’s vitals and breathing. Lance stared at the violet light and reached deep into himself for his own quintessence. Blue. Blue like the Blue Lion. Until that fateful moment when the Blue Lion had added her quintessence to his own, Lance’s quintessence had always been black.

Or, no that wasn’t true. Lance’s quintessence had been black since he’d joined the Druidic ranks. Druids of the Empire wielded black quintessence only. The others were reserved for other uses on Vuana: healing, agriculture, warmth, and security. Lance had taught himself to use black quintessence by draping it over his own natural blue. Then, after a while, the black quintessence just… stuck and he’d been unable to reach his blue quintessence ever again. He’d even forgotten it.

Until Blue.

As if summoned by his thoughts -which she very well may have been- Blue purred in his mind, vibrating his sense of self free of his darker thoughts. She nuzzled him mentally, soothing his senses and reassuring him of her presence. No matter how far he wandered from her, she would find him and drag him back to safety kicking and screaming. He flushed in amused annoyance and she crooned a feline laughter that he couldn’t help but smile at.

“You’re not my mother,” he mumbled.

He looked at the small fluffball curled close to Keith’s neck and his smile slipped. Chulatt had internal injuries that were serious for its tiny body. Hopefully, the pod would heal Chulatt just like it was healing Keith.

Although, Lance worried about the mental component of the pods. He still hadn’t figured out how one stay in a healing pod with the little mouse had linked their minds. He couldn’t remember something like that ever happening in the Vuanan healing pods before. Granted, he’d never heard of anyone sharing a healing pod for the same healing session before either. So that whole train of thought was derailed.

Sighing, Lance stood and moved to the view screen. A handful of Myr still swam through the waters surrounding the Freya infirmary, but not many. It must be dawn soon. As winter faded to summer, the night vargas began to grow shorter. Soon, there would no longer be a midnight hour, but a midnight sun.

Lance missed seeing the winter solstice festival. Oh well. There was always next deca-phoeb. Hopefully. If he survived that long.

Ehh, and there he went being all dark and depressed again. Boring. Judging from Blue’s growl, she wasn’t enjoying the downturn of Lance’s thoughts either. Well, in that case, he should turn his mind to more enjoyable things. Like his plans to show Keith around Vuana.

If the red paladin could throw a fit over the sight of one Myr, then Lance looked forward to his reactions of other things. And maybe he could convince Keith to tell him the stories of this 'Vanaheim' that was supposedly Vuana.

He glanced at Keith’s pod. If the idiot ever woke up, that is. He groaned. So bored…

* * *

He was never going to think boredom was a bad thing ever again. Ever. Again. He'd even let Chulatt ride on Keith's shoulder and it _still_ wasn't enough to stop the constant flood of questions.

Lance was trying to pull Keith away from staring at yet another Myr swimming above the hydrophobic particle barrier surrounding the globes of Freya. The roots of Yggdrasil and metal were trained with quintessence and Myr assistance to grow and loop around each globe, supporting them and holding their form.

The interior of the globes was simple in design with detailed etchings in the metal floors and supports. Metal support beams rose from the base to the thick metal ring looping the top of each globe. Clear casings containing bioluminescent algae glowed a soft blue-white during the night vargas. However, as the daystar was fully risen above the surface, the soft natural blue-white light was replaced by the warmer sun-gold from the bulbs dangling from the metal ring overhead.

Sometimes the change in the lights was the only way to tell when the night ended and the day began. Particularly during the winter phoebs when the daystar only rose above the horizon for a couple vargas and ice threatened to overtake the roots of Yggdrasil.

The soft, watery blue-green of the night vargas was already dimming, replaced by warm gold which lit the globes Lance and Keith moved through enough for easy movement. Well, Lance thought, flinching when Keith stumbled yet again, easy for the Vuana locals anyway. How did Humans have so much trouble seeing in this light?

“You know,” Lance said, yanking Keith closer so he could keep a closer eye on him, “if you’d stop staring at the Myr and start paying attention to where we’re going, then maybe you wouldn’t trip so much.”

The red paladin blinked incomprehensively at him for a tick before changing to a glower. “Well excuse me if this is the first time I’ve ever seen a mermaid before,” he grumbled.

“First of all,” Lance said, holding up a finger, “this is your second time seeing one. Not the first. Second,” he held up a second finger, “they’re called Myr, not mermaids. And third,” he held up another finger and shot Keith a flirtatious wink from beneath his hood, “I’d rather you only look at me like that. You’ll make me jealous.”

And queue the bright red blush. Lance snickered and pulled a now unresisting Keith along behind him. With Lance’s skillful guidance -mostly dredged up from memory- they wove their way through the interconnected globes of Freya towards the living areas. The globes there would be more translucent or even opaque as opposed to the completely transparent globes of the common areas.

“Where are we going?” Keith asked, and Lance did his best not to groan. He was really getting tired of that question, so he refused to dignify it with an answer. Keith could afford to be patient a little while longer.

Around them, the Vuana Alteans began to wander to their appointments in the early morning vargas. Most of the Vuana had successfully made the trek from Freya in Yggrasil’s roots to the Frey settlement in Yggdrasil’s branches for summer. The only Vuana remaining were the slow movers and the Waterbound, those who chose to live in Freya the entire deca-phoeb.

Once the spring equinox celebration passed, anyone who was planning on making the regular migration from Freya to Frey would be entirely moved out. As Lance understood the time-slice here, there was still a few more quintants to the equinox festival. That meant most of the danger of Keith standing out like a Myr on land was above water. The sooner Lance found clothes that would suit Keith to effectively hide him from any overly curious questions, the better.

“Is this…”

Lance sighed, ready for yet another question. Although, he had to admit, he did enjoy being on the other end of this scenario. It was about time he had some answers to some questions.

“I mean, I know you said this was Freya,” Keith began, moving closer so he didn’t have to speak so loudly, “but is this… I mean, is any part of it called Atlantis, by any chance?”

Lance frowned and looked back at the red paladin in confusion. “I’ve never heard of that name before,” he said. “What is Atlantis?”

Keith shrugged with a sheepish expression. “Nothing,” he said too quickly. “Just… There’re stories back home about a city underneath the ocean.” He looked around them again with barely contained awe. “I was just wondering if… I mean, we always thought Atlantis was Greek or something because, as far as I know, the myth originated in Greek mythology.”

Lance shook his head. “No,” he said after a tick of thought. “I’ve never heard of an Atlantis before. Perhaps, that is a place that exists on your home planet alone.”

With a thoughtful tilt of his head, Keith nodded. “Maybe,” he said reluctantly. “Why are the lights changing?”

“Because the daystar’s almost risen on the surface,” Lance replied. “Most of my- _our_ people are already up there.”

“Why? Is something going on up there?” Keith asked.

Lance smiled and guided them through another tunnel to the residential district of Freya. “The summer phoebs are almost here,” he explained, looking around for his home. “The Vuana are migratory. We-”

He caught sight of a familiar globe and couldn’t fight down the excitement blossoming in his chest. He hadn’t been home in phoebs. It was a good thing he still remembered where his home globe was down here. He may have been born and raised Oceanborne, but after meeting his siblings, he’d settled into the regular root-to-branch migration of the Treebound. He loved his little family and he couldn’t wait to see them.

But seriously, if any of them were still down here in Freya, they were going to get an earful from him.

Without thinking, he hiked up his Druidic robes and ran towards his little home. A startled yelp from behind him accompanied by an abrupt drag as Keith staggered after him was a stark reminder of his responsibilities. Too bad it did nothing to calm his excitement. Lance grinned.

“Keith?” he said, knowing the red paladin was listening. “Whatever you do, do not make any sudden moves and-,” he stopped abruptly and turned to face Keith who nearly slammed into him- “remember your cover story. Do you understand?”

* * *

Keith just barely caught himself before running face first into Lance. What the hell made him stop so fast anyway? Why would-

“Um,” he gulped. “Okay?”

Beneath the brown hood, Lance smirked. Oh shit. With a growing sense of horror, Keith watched Lance approach a particular globe and press a hand against a blue-white panel. An opaque particle barrier vanished revealing a opening in the globe’s side. Lance walked in without hesitation and waited for Keith to follow.

Bracing himself, Keith stepped through the barrier, spinning when it shut behind him. Aw crap. Nowhere to run. Better check the place for any _what the fuck?!_

“Who’s that?”

Two sets of hands suddenly grabbed his clothes and tugged him down towards the floor, throwing off his balance. On his shoulder, Chulatt squealed and scampered away from the hands. Before Keith had the chance to react properly, big brown eyes were inches from his own. A _kid?_

“He looks weird,” the brown eyed girl said.

What?

“What’s wrong with his ears?” she asked.

“Ow,” he yelped when the girl’s grabby fingers pulled his ears.

“Why’s he dressed funny?” Someone else’s fingernail jabbed his cheek way too close to his eye to be comfortable. “And where’re his scales?”

What?

“He’s so pale,” the little girl said, leaning back enough for Keith to have a little breathing room. “Is he one of those weirdos who don’t migrate?”

Who’s a weirdo?

_Smack!_

“That was rude, Alve,” Lance said, pulling the little stranger’s face out of Keith’s very personal and very _popped_ bubble. “Apologize.”

“But it’s true,” the _child_ -oh shit- whined, pointing at Keith’s face. Keith leaned back staring cross-eyed at the finger a mere inch from his nose. “He’s all pale and only Waterbound look like that.” She paused, and looked up at Keith with open consideration. “Or the Myr. Is he a Myr?”

One of the boys with white hair and skin like Lance’s nudged the little girl, Alve, with his elbow and mussed her red-brown hair. “Don’t be stupid,” he said. “He doesn’t have a tail and he’s not screeching my ears off.”

“Does he talk at all?” another little boy asked. This one was clinging to one of Lance’s hands, pulling the Druid down to a crouch.

“Don’t be deceived, Taavi,” Lance said, scooping up a chittering Chulatt and plopping the mouse on the little boy's head. He shot Keith a sly grin and added, “He’s a loud one.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Keith said, feeling his face begin to warm.

But Taavi’s green eyes bugged and he ducked behind Lance’s robes so only Chulatt's blue fur was visible. Instantly, Keith backed off guiltily. The little boy peeked out through light brown bangs and brown robes, his cheeks flushed.

“I see what you mean,” an older girl with black hair said, a wry smile on her face. She crossed her arms over her chest and huffed. “I assume he’s a friend of yours, big brother?”

Brother?

Lance smiled and picked Taavi up in his arms, resting the little boy on his hip like a mother. Taavi blinked and looped his arms around Lance’s neck, rubbing the Druid’s cheek with his own before burying his face in Lance’s neck. Chulatt squeaked and crawled from Taavi's head to Lance's before hopping down to the Druid's free shoulder.

"And that had better not be a pet," the girl warning, looking straight at the little blue mouse.

“Of sorts,” Lance replied with a fond smile at Taavi. “This is Keith. He’s my charge.”

“Wow! You have a charge?” the white-haired boy asked, spinning so fast it made Keith dizzy. “Does that mean you’re a _real_ Druid now?”

Instead of being offended, Lance laughed and yanked the little boy into a hug. “What do you think, you little mischief?”

Keith stood back and watched the interactions feeling oddly out of place. It felt like this wasn’t something he should be seeing; that this was something private and personal and he was an intruder.

“Ran,” the oldest black-haired girl said, “go help Alve finish packing. We’ll join you in a tick.”

The white-haired boy squeezed Lance’s legs tighter, and whined. “No! Don’t want to.”

Well, at least some kids were the same here as they were on Earth. Nice to know some things were universal.

Lance sighed theatrically and worked little Ran’s arms loose enough to kneel on the metal floor and nuzzle the boy’s cheek with his own. “Hey,” he whispered. “I missed you.”

Alve gasped and skipped away from Keith, knocking Ran aside in her rush to hug and nuzzle Lance’s cheek too. Keith frowned. Why were they… He blinked. It wasn’t cheeks they were nuzzling. They were brushing their scales against each other. Interesting.

“Alve,” the eldest girl said, reaching out to pull the little girl and Ran away from Lance. “Both of you-”

“Are you trying to steal my precious siblings from me Darja?” Lance said, pressing a hand to his chest in dramatic offense. “You would break my heart like that? Darja, you wicked Myr. You wound me.”

Darja black eyes glittered and she lifted one eyebrow in a perfect arch. Oh, so _that’s_ where Lance gets it.

“I’ll do more than wound you if you keep these crazy midgets from packing any longer,” Darja said, every inch a mother.

Wait. Where was their mother? Come to think of it, where were either of their parents? Lance couldn’t be the father, he was way too young. The same could be said for Darja. So where were… Unless…

Why wouldn’t the floor open up and swallow him whole already?

Lance didn’t seem to notice Keith’s discomfort and immediately grabbed Alve and Ran, pulling them into a tight hug that had them giggling happily. He aimed an obviously fake sad gaze up at Darja, crocodile tears and all, and whimpered.

This guy…

“Why must you be so cruel to us?” he whined, sniffing like professional actor. Hell, Lance probably was a professional actor. If Lance was what Keith suspected he was to these kids, then he would have to be able to act on queue.

Unfortunately, for Lance, Darja was not having it. She grabbed the Druid by the ear and _yanked_ him to his feet, ignoring his pained cries.

“Don’t teach them any more bad habits or I will make you regret it,” she threatened. “Druid or not, I can still kick your smeg to the other side of Uryd and you know it.”

Lance winced but sighed in defeat.

“You heard me,” Darja said, aiming a glare at the three youngest children still clinging to Lance’s Druid robes. “Finish packing. I want to be out of here and on our way to Frey by the end of this quintant. Go.”

The chorus of sad whines went ignored by the big sister as the little ones trudged away to the other side of the little globe home. Only then did Darja pull Lance into a hug and brush her violet scale against the Druid’s blue scale.

“Welcome home, big brother,” she said.

Lance smiled, and Keith was surprised to see no hint of teasing in it. “It’s good to see everyone again,” he said softly, patting Chulatt's head when the little mouse cheeped and waved at Darja. “Glad I could make it in time for the move,” he added, turning his gaze to where the three youngest were still stuffing their things in bags.

Darja hummed, eyeing the mouse incredulously. With a put upon sigh, she turned her head to Keith. “Are you going to introduce me to your charge?” she said. “Or are you going to leave him floundering like a Myr on land?”

Hey now.

Lance cackled. “He does act like that sometimes,” he said.

“What the fu-” Nope. Nope, there were kids here. Deep breath. “What the heck, Lance?” he snapped. “At least I’m not insane.”

Lance scoffed. “Debatable, but not important right now,” he said. “Darja, this is my charge, Keith. He’s here recovering from a botched mission. Keith, this is Darja, my lovely sister and mistress of this little home.”

The so-called mistress groaned and deliberately jabbed her elbow in Lance’s ribs hard enough to make the Druid gasp. “Whatever, you idiotic Druid,” she said.

“Thank you!” Keith said, raising his hands in relief. “You see?” he pointed directly at Lance. “I’m not the only one who thinks you’re insane. You are whacked.”

“Think?” Darja scoffed. “He _is_ crazy. We’re all crazy here. He’s just crazier than most,” she added with a sly grin at Lance.

The Druid flushed and huffed. “And here I was hoping for a warm welcome from my sister and I get this.” He groaned and shook his head. “Anyway, I thought you would all be up in Frey by now,” he said. “Why did you wait so long to move?”

A worried frown worked its way onto Darja’s face. “It... This wasn’t the best season we've ever had,” she said, glancing at Keith before moving away. “If you think I’m letting you off just because you and your charge just got here, you’re wrong. Pack up,” she called over her shoulder to Lance, snapping her fingers.

Keith stared at Darja as she moved to help Taavi, Alve, and Ran finish packing their bags. He looked at Lance and his frowned deepened. “What was that about?” he said in a low voice.

Lance hesitated, rubbing the tuft of fur on Chulatt's head worriedly. The Druid’s lips were pressed in a thin line. “I don’t know,” he said just as quietly.

Taking in the worry etched on the Druid’s face, Keith decided to leave that for now. “So,” he tried another subject, “you’re moving?”

The worried faded somewhat and Lance smiled. “Most of us move up to Frey for the summer phoebs,” he explained. “It’s warmer and food is easier to come by. Besides,” he smiled brightly, “the equinox festival is worth the effort.”

Keith gave Lance a flat stare. “Right,” he drawled. “You would be a party boy.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lance asked, scowling at Keith.

“Nothing,” he said with a careless shrug.

The Druid eyed him for a moment before turning away and sighing. “You’re taking this a lot better than I thought you would,” he admitted, almost too quietly for Keith to hear.

He sighed and tilted his head, his black bangs tickling his forehead. “I was in the system most of my life,” he said. “I know an orphanage when I see one.” He turned his violet gaze to the Druid. “I didn’t know.”

He watched Lance swallow past the pallor. “It… happens,” he started. “This is a war.” His gaze flickered to Keith’s. “Not all Druids come back.”

Without waiting for a reply, Lance moved further into the small home. Keith watched him tackle little Taavi with surprise tickles before brushing their scales against each other and helping the children pack.


	33. Frey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Keith is overwhelmed by kids and sights and Lance is thinking. Uh oh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** Yet another transition chapter that's a little heavy on the worldbuilding, but it had to happen to move things along. Hope you enjoy. The action's coming soon. We just have to get through this first.

Keith was not overly comfortable in his new clothes, but at least they were warm. He still wore his jumpsuit from his armor underneath the scaled, leather shirt just in case. Lance and the children may not present much of a threat, but Keith had no guarantee about the rest of the Alteans here.

Were they really Altean anymore? They may look Altean, but- Well, maybe what Keith should be thinking is, these people looked like Coran and Allura physically, but that’s where the similarities ended. Allura and Coran were formal and held themselves with pride and… well, like royalty. Granted, Keith’s perception of Alteans was slightly skewed because he’d only had contact with Altean royalty. But Keith was willing to bet most Alteans Allura and Coran knew didn’t do things like Lance’s people did.

The Vuanan Alteans were refined, yes, but there was a wild edge to them that Allura and Coran didn’t have. Allura was a fine blade sheathed in silk and Coran was a filigreed musket while the Vuanan Alteans were a bare knife with a sharp blade and fine, ivory handle. It was a stark contrast that Keith could appreciate.

Just like he could appreciate the way Lance’s deep blue pants gripped his legs. His boots were made of the same dark brown leather as Keith’s shirt. The soft lining on the inside of the boot was visible where Lance folded it back mid-calf. A series of small clasps running up the front of the boots cinched the fabric together firmly.

From there, the dark blue pants that Keith, er, appreciated tucked into the boots. Lance’s shirt was a shade or two lighter than his pants and worn like a hooded cardigan. The shirt fabric draping over Lance’s shoulders was pulled tight over his torso and buttoned securely across his chest. His undershirt was a soft, light brown fabric that peaked out between the flaps of his blue, fur-lined cardigan.

Lance’s brown hair and blue eye scales were visible beneath the hood that little Taavi seemed to enjoy playing with while sitting on Lance’s shoulders. The Druid glanced back at Keith to be sure he was keeping up. When he saw the red paladin walking a pace behind him, he flashed Keith a bright smile.

“Enjoying your duties, Keith?” he teased.

Keith rolled his eyes and pushed the small hovercraft with the little family’s food and stores. “Since when am I a pack mule?” he muttered, not really upset.

To be fair, each person in Lance’s family carried their own personal affects, but the rest of the general supplies had been loaded onto a decent sized hovercraft that Keith was in charge of. He couldn’t really be upset about it with Lance smiling and deliberately bouncing as he walked so Taavi would squeal and laugh happily. Ran and Alve stayed close to Darja as they followed a steadily growing number of Vuanan Alteans towards what looked like the nexus of the Freya settlement.

“What’s a pack mule?” Alve asked, turning around so she walked backwards while looking straight at Keith.

“It’s an animal from my home planet,” Keith explain. “Kind of like a horse only smaller.”

“What’s a horse?” Alve asked.

And Keith really should have seen that coming. He’d walked right into that one and now he would be stuck in an endless loop of ‘what’s a fill-in-the-blank’ question and answer cycle. Why him?

He sighed. “It’s kind of like a mule only bigger,” he said simply.

Alve scrunched her face in disappointment. “That doesn’t make sense,” she grumbled.

“Life doesn’t make sense,” Keith said, shrugging. “You get used to it.”

“Boring,” Ran crowed, swinging Darja’s hand back and forth.

“To you, you little smeg,” Alve trilled in a sing-song voice.

“Alve!” Darja said in exasperation. “Language.”

“But Lance says it,” the little brunette whined, pointing to the offending party who blushed and ducked sheepishly.

“That’s not all he says,” Keith added, grinning broadly and he saw the Druid shoot him a terrified look. “He’s been using a lot of words.”

“Really?” Ran asked, his gray eyes wide and shining in his dark face like twin full moons. “Like what?”

“Keith?” Darja said, not looking over her shoulder at the red paladin. “If you teach them bad habits, I will punish you like I punish them.”

Lance paled. “She’s not kidding,” he said. “She will and believe me, she’s efficient.”

Keith lifted an eyebrow as best he could. “What if I tell them about some words I’ve been teaching Lance?” he asked curiously.

This time Darja did look back at him and Keith decided he would not teach the kids new curse words. He gulped.

“A wise decision,” the young lady said, tossing her thick black braids over her shoulder with a casual shrug of her shoulder. “Alve, don’t rush. We want to be on the same lift.”

Lift. Oh. Yay. Keith was so excited. He could barely contain himself. He was practically jumping in excitement.

Shit.

Lance snorted and Keith grinned. “You snorted,” he said.

The Druid made a face and avoided Keith’s gaze. “I did not,” he mumbled.

“Yes, you did,” Taavi said, tilting his head in confusion. “I heard you.”

The Druid’s shoulders drooped in defeat and Keith chuckled.

“Betrayed by your own little brother,” Keith teased. “That’s got to burn.”

“Frak you.”

Darja stilled and looked right at Lance who paled and side stepped so he hid behind Keith’s body. Her black eyes gleamed in the golden light of the hall they stood in. “If your soaps mysteriously vanish, don’t blame me,” she said.

Without another word, she turned and walked away. From behind him, Keith heard a faint whimper. “I am so fra- mm… dead,” Lance moaned, cutting himself off before he cursed again.

Keith smiled. “I like her,” he said and continued after the group with his hovercraft.

“You mock my pain,” Lance moaned dramatically, moving to walk next to Keith.

“‘Life is pain, highness,’” Keith quoted. “‘Anyone who says otherwise is selling something.’”

Lance blinked. “I’m not royalty,” he said, giving the red paladin an odd look.

Crap. And Keith had been looking forward to using that line too. “Could have fooled me,” he said instead.

Lance’s blue eyes narrowed suspiciously. “I’m not sure whether to be offended or flattered,” he said.

Keith smiled at Lance and said nothing because he knew it would drive the Druid nuts.

* * *

When they finally reached the front of the line, Keith pushed the hovercraft onto a metal platform and stood next to Lance who was still studiously avoiding Darja. Alve had taken to following right behind Keith almost to the point of tripping over his heels. She’d already stepped on his brown boots twice, chirped an apology, and continued to follow him just as closely as before. It was… weird.

They gathered close as more Vuanan Alteans crowded onto the platform. A soft chime sounded once, twice, then, on the third chime, the particle barrier portal materialized, sealing them inside. Keith almost lost his balance when, instead of moving up or down, the platform moved sideways, away from the globe they’d been in moments before. He bumped against Lance’s side, earning him a teasing grin and wink that made him very glad it was still dim in here.

It was strange how even the amber light Lance’s people considered daylight down here was still what Keith considered dim. It made him wonder how bright the sunlight naturally was on this planet. Although, if the Vuanan Alteans were accustomed to light as dim as this on a regular basis, then it made sense for them to develop a better ability to see in low li-

Mermaid.

Thoughts thoroughly derailed, Keith stared out the transparent force field of the lift globe in awe. A pod of Myr swam passed the lift towards the sea floor below. Softly glowing crystals illuminated spiraling stone pillars on the sea floor where Myr swam in dense pods. It took Keith a minute to fully comprehend what he was looking at. A Myr city.

“Woah,” he breathed.

One Myr seemed to notice Keith’s interest and paused, changing direction and swimming up to the lift globe’s side. It swam to keep up with the lift globe’s movement and stared right at Keith. It’s eyes were a solid white in a blue-green face that was vaguely humanoid. Its clawed fingers were webbed and its long, blue-green tail beat the water like ripples. It opened its mouth and made a soft, watery sound that… actually sounded nice. Then it dove down and swam away.

…holy shit…

Giddy with excitement, Keith sighed. He was grinning like an idiot but he couldn’t care less. He was on Cloud 9 and enjoying every second of it. Movement next to him caught his attention and he looked over to see Lance and Darja looking at him strangely. Actually, come to think of it, everyone in the lift globe was staring at him strangely.

Uh, not awkward at all. Geez.

“They like you,” Lance murmured, startling Keith. A teasing smirk worked its way onto the Druid’s lips. “Well, well. It seems I’ve got my hands full with you, my charge.”

As if a switch had been flipped, most of the Vuanan Alteans turned away and proceeded to ignore their little group entirely. Okay, not weird at all. Keith looked around suspiciously before catching the Druid’s gaze. Lance was smiling, but it didn’t reach his eyes entirely. There was humor there, but there was also something else. Keith couldn’t quite place it.

Then the lift globe stopped moving and they were shuffled out and into a ship. Geez, this was a pain. And the Vuana did this every year? Why?

Then the ship broke through the water’s surface and Keith began to understand. As the ship continued its ascent, Keith couldn’t help but stare. The ocean stretched to the horizon in every direction except behind them where an enormous pillar of wood and metal loomed. That must be Yggdrasil.

The longer Keith stared at it, the less he could possibly see Yggdrasil as one tree. There was just no way a single tree could grow so large and so tall. The thing dwarfed the sequoias and red woods back on Earth. He should have known when Lance said the Freya settlement was in Yggdrasil’s roots. But didn’t think Lance meant that _literally._ He’d figured the Druid meant Freya was down _by_ the roots not actually _in_ and _among_ the roots.

But seeing what had to be Yggdrasil’s trunk, Keith realized how wrong he’d been. Freya could very well be in the literal roots of the tree. The ship was still climbing and they still hadn’t reached the massive tree’s branches.

“Holy shit,” he whispered.

He turned back to the sea and saw a star similar to the sun back home just visible beyond the gigantic branches of Yggdrasil’s arbor. The closer they got, the more details Keith could make out. There were globe-like homes up here as well. But many of them had lowered their particle barriers so they were open to the sea breeze.

Pathways made of woven wood and metal and force field protected tubes traversed branches and spiraled around the gigantic trunk. It was fantastical and Keith could barely believe his eyes. Damn it, Hunk was right. Alteans were Space Elves.

“Ugh, I owe Hunk ten bucks,” he groaned, ignoring the disconcerted look Lance shot him.

Not that he was upset. He didn’t have ten bucks anyway, so no real loss.

Wait. Wait. What the shit? If the Alteans, or the Vuanan Alteans were basically Space Elves, then that meant they were cryptids too. Oh-kay. This was… Wow. Okay. Keith needed to sit down. It had been a long day and he was beginning to have an information overload.

“You’re weird.”

Uh. Keith looked down at Ran. The boy stood by Darja’s side, stilling holding onto her hand, but his gray eyes stared up at him.

“Excuse me?” Keith said.

“You’re excused,” Ran chirped.

Behind him, Lance snorted. Shit. Keith had walked right into that one. He glared at Lance. “Snorted,” he said.

The Druid stiffened and flushed, deliberately looking anywhere but the red paladin. Victory.

“Well, from where I’m standing,” Keith said, turning his attention back to Ran, “you’re the weird ones.”

“Why’s that?” Alve asked, leaning on her brother’s shoulder and looking up at Keith with interest.

“Because,” Keith replied.

“Because why?” Alve pressed.

“Because.”

Both Ran and Alve frowned. “Because isn’t an answer,” Ran said.

“You say that now,” Keith said, holding up a hand. “Wait till you’re older. Trust me. You’ll understand.”

Ran scrunched his face and exchanged frustrated looks with Alve. But before either of them could ask another question, the ship stopped moving and Keith was saved by the pilot commanding them to vacate. Not that he was complaining. Not one bit.

He wasn’t an ocean person. But right now, he thought he could be. For a little while.

* * *

Lance felt his heart soar as he watched Keith. The red paladin liked his home world. Lance hadn’t realized how much that meant to him. He couldn’t help but hope that the more Keith saw of his world, of his people, the more the red paladin would understand all of what Lance and the Vuana had to lose.

When they finally arrived at their summer home, Lance let Taavi climb off his shoulders and help Alve and Ran unpack their things. Darja tugged the hovercraft over to the small kitchen and began to unload the food and stores they brought into the storage compartments beneath the floor.

“Keith,” Lance called. “Give us a hand.”

The red paladin knelt and helped Darja by unloading the hovercraft and handing her items one at a time so she could categorize it and place it where it belonged. Lance patted his sister on the shoulder as he moved behind her to begin checking their home systems. He needed to find out what still worked from their last visit and what needed to be repaired or upgraded.

Thankfully, there wasn’t much that needed to be repaired and none of it was an immediate need. However, they would need to replace the small Balmera crystal powering their home’s systems. He checked the crystal’s dimensions and stood, brushing himself off. The kids would need to start dusting the place off while he was gone.

“I’m going to get a new Balmera crystal with Keith,” Lance said. The red paladin lifted his head in confusion. “We’ll be back later. Is there anything you need?”

Darja sat back and studied the storage compartments with pursed lips. “We’ll need more fresh plants to regrow the garden soon, but we have enough stores to last the next couple movements,” she said. “We’ll deal with the rest tomorrow.”

“Then I’ll be back,” Lance said.

He grabbed Keith’s shoulder and tugged the paladin’ to his feet after him. Together, the two of them made their way out of the one room home and down a series of twisting paths.

“Do you all live up here?” Keith asked.

“Most of us, yes,” Lance said with a warm smile. “The Waterbound prefer to stay down in Freya all deca-phoeb long just like the Treebound prefer to stay up here in Frey all deca-phoeb. But yes, most of us migrate between the two settlements with the seasons.”

The human hummed thoughtfully, following Lance’s lead and stepping aside so another Vuana family could climb up. “Why?” Keith asked once they were moving again.

“Because we take advantage of the daylight while we have it,” Lance explained. “During the summer phoebs, the daystar will stay above the horizon all quintant and all night. We use this time to grow the crops we need for the winter phoebs.” He stepped off the main path and took a side path across a smaller branch, glancing behind him to be sure Keith was keeping up. “Do you have summer on your home planet?” he asked.

Keith nodded. “Yeah, but the only places where we have a midnight sun are near the poles,” he said. “I lived in the desert closer to the subtropics near the equator. We had longer days during summer, but we always had night.”

Lance hummed thoughtfully. “I feel weird when it’s always dark,” he said. “I don’t like staying up here when it’s always dark. I’ll stay until after the storms, then I’ll move back to Freya.”

“Storms?”

Lance nodded and stepped off the path onto a round platform where several other Vuana stood talking and leaning on the railing.

“I’ve noticed not many people have asked about me,” Keith said quietly, looking at the other Vuana significantly.

Lance grimaced. “We arrived at a good time,” he said, tugging the red paladin to an open spot along the railing.

The sea breeze from the ocean far below ruffled his hair and brought a smile to his face. He’d missed the smell of saltwater and wood. Breathing recycled air on a Galra battlecruiser just wasn’t the same. It wasn’t anywhere near as pure and relaxing.

“We’re getting close to the spring equinox festival,” Lance said. “Everyone will be busy settling into their summer homes here in Frey and preparing for the festival. It wouldn’t be unusual to see unfamiliar faces around.” He sighed. “As long as the emperor doesn’t alert the Council to keep an eye out for us,” he shot Keith a wry look, “or you don’t catch a Breeder’s eye, then we should be fine.”

Keith frowned. “What’s a Breeder?” he asked.

“Trust me on this one,” Lance said, holding up a hand to stall any further questions, “you don’t want to know.”

“I hate not knowing things,” the red paladin grumbled, leaning on the railing next to Lance in a sulk.

Lance snickered. “Get used to it,” he said.

He gazed out at to sea and felt his smile slip. Blue. She was still out there hiding Red and trying to repair herself. Lance wanted her to hurry. He wanted to go back to her and help her with the repairs.

But he also wanted her to take her time. He missed home and yes, it was selfish, but he wanted to stay here. Like this. It was a dream that couldn’t last. But at least he could hope he wouldn’t wake up to destruction. If he lost his home… If he lost his family… Then he didn’t think he’d be able to keep fighting.

Beside him, Keith shifted and despite his dark thoughts, Lance’s lips still quirked up. Well, maybe if he still had Keith then he could at least have an ally. They both wanted Zarkon destroyed, after all. That had to mean something.

Now all he had to do was think about what would happen if… _when_ Zarkon was destroyed. If Lance had his way, Lotor would get the throne. But perhaps it was too early to push that ideal on Keith or the Voltron team. He would have to wait a bit longer before mentioning that little thought.


	34. Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Keith wakes up to an awkward situation, a walking nightmare, and the truth that every paradise has a dark side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** Sorry for the delay. I took the past couple days off for Thanksgiving with my family. Enjoy this longer chapter in apology. ^_^

He woke slowly to warmth and the sound of something steadily beating a window pane. Rain? But how could they have rain in space? They would need to be on a planet for… rain…

The Druid. Vuana.

His violet eyes flew open, and he froze. He wasn’t alone. He was in bed, _a_ bed - _whose_ bed?- and he was not alone. Lying just a few inches from his face, was Lance.

The Druid’s tan skin was shadowed by the unsteady light of the barrier surrounding the little Vuana home. His blue eyes were closed and his lips parted ever so slightly in sleep. One hand rested on the mattress between Lance and Keith as if it had fallen there. Keith’s eyes took in every inch of the Druid’s sleeping face, slack and peaceful, and fought the urge to reel back in shock and embarrassment.

Damn it. What happened last night? How did they end up like this? What the hell _happened?_

Despite his efforts to control his reaction so he didn’t wake Lance, his body still twitched backwards, straight into another body. Holy _shit?!_   What. The. Holy. Hell. Happened _last night?!_

The body behind him squirmed and moaned before settling. Wait. That voice sounded young. Like _illegal_ young. As if in response to the too young moan, Lance hummed and shifted _closer_ to Keith. Short brown hair that was much too soft for its own good brushed Keith chin and Lance’s hand reached out to rest on his neck. His eyes never opened.

Violet eyes trailed up the sleeping Druid’s arm in awe. There, hidden by the blanket and angle of the arm, was a tangle of lines like a tattoo on the soft underside of Lance’s forearm. A tattoo that glowed a faint blue like an old, used glowstick. The heck?

Keith’s eyes were wide open in the darkness. He could feel the flush in his cheeks and the pulse pounding in his chest and neck under the Druid’s calloused fingers. Every instinct screamed at him to _get away_ but he wasn’t sure what would happened if he moved and woke Lance and… whoever else was in bed with him up.

 _Why_ were there multiple people in bed with him? He was not poly and he couldn’t _remember_ and this was freaking him _the fuck_ out!

Then his senses tingled for another reason and he narrowed his eyes. Something wasn’t quite right. He was certain of it. He just wasn’t sure why. It was the same feeling he got from that Druid he fought back on the Galactic Hub place. Now that he thought about it, it was the same feeling he had about Lance right up until they faced off the first time in that mine shaft on the Balmera.

They had just felt _wrong._ Off somehow. He couldn’t explain it so much as he just hated them. But after fighting Lance on the Balmera, the blue eyed Vuanan Altean hadn’t felt _off_ anymore. He’d just felt… like everyone else. He didn’t even feel like Allura and Coran. He just felt like… everyone else on Vuana.

And cold. Lance felt like the Vuanan Alteans and like ice. Although Keith was willing to bet the latter was due to the Blue Lion’s influence.

Still, why was he getting this sense of _wrongness_ now? Well, other than the fact he was still in bed with _multiple people!_ Unnerved, his eyes flickered around the dark room looking for anything out of the ordinary.

Above and around them, he could see rain splashing against a particle barrier that formed curved, transparent walls around the room. Dark metal slashed through the particle barrier separating them into sections much like the petals of a flower.

Keith blinked. He knew where he was. He was in Lance’s small home in the branches of _the_ Yggdrasil. Taking a slow, deep breath to let his mind adjust itself to the location and utter insanity that he was _actually here_ , Keith began to calm down.

Lance was asleep, it was dark, and aside from the rain, everything was peaceful. So why the bad feeling?

Sitting up as slowly as he could, careful to not wake up Lance for any of his other… bedmates, Keith pushed himself up to his elbows and got a better look at the bed. Oh. Well, that explained a lot. Sprawled out on one, huge, round bed set into the floor of the little, one room home was Lance, Darja, Taavi, Ran, and Alve.

They must all sleep together. Okay, so chances were Keith hadn’t been involved in some crazy, ritualistic orgy that he couldn’t remember. He’d just gone to bed with everyone. And, come to think of it, he could remember the whole thing now. He hadn’t been impressed by the setup and had offered to sleep on the floor above the bed, but Lance had insisted he join them.

No wonder the cuddling. Lance probably had no idea who he was. Keith turned his head to see who’d been sleeping behind him and flushed when he saw little Alve lying there. Her reddish brown hair was spread across her pillow in a dark, tangled mess. Her orange scales gleamed dully in the watery light.

It was adorable and Keith couldn’t help but smile. He shifted so he sat down only to flinch, stiffening when a soft moan sounded in the room from somewhere to his right, behind Lance’s still form. There was an answering mumble from Keith’s left but the soft moan came again and this time, Lance opened his eyes.

The Druid blinked dazedly, pulling his hand back to rub his eyes in exhaustion. Rolling so he lay on his stomach, Lance looked around in mild, sleepy confusion. Glazed blue eyes settled on Keith, blinked, then cleared in surprise. Lance opened his mouth to speak, falling silent when he heard the soft moan again.

Both Lance and Keith followed the sound with their eyes and this time Keith noticed the small form of Taavi rolling around and moaning. Probably a bad dream. Lance carefully untangled himself from his siblings and crawled over to Taavi, gathering the distressed boy in his arms. He leaned down to brush one of his eye scales against Taavi, humming softly. Keith watched as Taavi’s nightmare fueled rocking stilled and small arms latched onto Lance’s shoulders.

Maybe it had been Taavi’s nightmare that had originally woken Keith. It would explain the bad feeling. Except that the feeling hadn’t gone away. If anything, it was stronger. It made him twitch with nervous energy. He could feel his fingers flex, reflexively reaching for the handle of his bayard or his knife.

In the back of his mind, he could feel the Red Lion growling. She had noticed her paladin’s discomfort despite the distance separating them and was urging him to investigate. Red was fire, a creature of instinct. If Keith’s instincts said something was wrong, then Red encouraged him to listen to them. They had hardly ever led either of them astray.

Unable to contain himself any longer, Keith got to his feet and strode to the particle barrier walls. He couldn’t see much through them in the dim light. Only the wood and metal deck surrounding their little home, the branches of Yggdrasil, and the rain were visible through a thick fog.

No. Not fog. Cloud. They were high enough to actually be _inside_ the rain cloud. Keith could barely make out any details beyond the encircling deck through the cloud and rain. But he knew something was out there. Something… wrong.

There was a soft rustle of sheets from behind him and he turned to look over his shoulder. Lance was holding a half asleep Taavi in his arms and tucking the blankets in around the other children and Darja. Then the Druid climbed out of the bed and stood, walking up to join Keith by the barrier.

Taavi clung to Lance’s thin night shirt and nuzzled in the Druid’s shoulder. Lance looked more awake now, cradling Taavi in his arms. His blue eyes gleamed dangerously in the dim light and his face was set in a stern expression. Taavi’s green eyes were tired but so wide Keith could see white ringing the irises. It was disturbing.

“Is he okay?” Keith whispered the Druid, glancing pointedly at Taavi.

Lance didn’t answer right away. He stepped closer to Keith and stared fixedly out through the particle barrier. His lips were set in a grim line and he tightened his grip on little Taavi’s body. That’s when Keith knew.

“You sense it too,” he said softly.

Lance’s eyebrows drew low over his blue eyes and his chin tilted down in silent agreement. Keith shifted closer to the Druid. Lance may be able to take care of himself, but Keith wasn’t going to let anything happen to Taavi or the others. Children shouldn’t be involved in war or anything truly dangerous.

Even though the Vuanan Alteans were dangerous by nature.

Keith gritted his teeth and glared out through the barrier searching for something he couldn’t see. Something that set his nerves on end and gave him goosebumps. He could feel whatever it was coming closer, but he couldn’t _see_ it. He couldn’t see _anything_.

Suddenly, Lance hissed and grabbed Keith’s wrist pulling him back towards the bed in the center of the room. Keith bit back a startled cry and allowed himself to be moved. Lance crouched by the edge of the bed, clutching Taavi to his chest as if he was afraid the boy would be yanked from his arms. Keith knelt on one knee, wishing he had his bayard.

He still had his knife. Casting his eyes around the room for his small bag of clothes and personal effects Lance had kept for him, Keith felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Whatever was coming was _close_ and he would be fucked if he didn’t have something to fight with.

There, by the edge of the bed near Alve’s sleeping body -how was she still asleep? How were they _all_ still asleep?- was Keith's bag. He reached for it, pulling it close to dig through it. Wrapped in his paladin armor's jumpsuit was his old knife. The black and silver blade gleamed in the darkness, its familiar weight a balm to his frayed senses.

He adjusted his grip on the handle and knelt, ready to strike if threatened. He glanced briefly at Lance and saw the moment the Druid noticed Keith’s knife. Lance’s dark eyebrows drew low and he nodded before turning his gaze back to what was hiding outside the barrier.

“What is it?” Keith breathed. He was almost afraid whispering would be too loud.

Taavi whimpered and Lance bit his lip, freeing one hand and holding it ready. Keith felt his frown deepen when he recognized the pose. Lance was ready to use his space magic if he had to. Well shit. Keith focused his attention back to the barrier and waited, listening and watching.

“Breeders.”

Keith blinked. “What?” he asked, tilting his head towards the Druid next to him without taking his eyes away from the barrier.

“They’re Breeders,” Lance whispered. “Remember yester-quintant when I told you not to catch a Breeder’s eye?”

“Yeah,” Keith replied just as softly, nodding.

“These are them.”

Taavi whimpered and tried to cuddle closer to Lance’s chest, as if he was trying to hide. Lance swallowed and his fingers flexed.

“Can he sense them too?” Keith asked, nodding to the distressed boy.

Lance sighed. “Yes,” he whispered, his tone sad and tired. “Most of the Oceanborne can. It's why they come back to shore at times like this. We’re early warning systems.”

Oceanborne. Keith was pretty sure the Druid had mentioned that before but hadn’t explained what it was or what it meant. At least he had some information now.

“You’re Oceanborne too, then?” Keith said.

Lance nodded. “It’s another reason why no one’s questioned your presence yet,” he whispered.

That sort of made sense, but Keith could tell he was still missing some vital information and that irked him. But now wasn’t the time.

“They think my Altean half is Oceanborne,” he said instead.

Lance grimaced but nodded. “Yes,” he said. “But you might not wa-”

The Druid froze, falling silent as sparks of ice blue sputtered to light in the palm of his outstretched hand. Keith took the warning for what it was and braced himself.

Mixed in with the rain and the waving branches was a new sound. It was soft and steady, thumping at a predictable pace. Footsteps. It took Keith a moment to orient himself to the direction of the sound.

But when he did, he adjusted his position so he faced the door to their small home, Lance right at his side. The footsteps paused by the front door before moving along the encircling deck. It sounded like two feet just walking but it gave Keith the impression of a predator stalking.

He _hated_ the thing outside.

Next to him, Taavi no longer made a sound from Lance’s protective embrace. Keith briefly wondered if the boy was even breathing. The boy was probably holding his breath. Keith had to fight the instinct to do the same. Instead, he forcing himself to breathe slowly, deeply, and quietly just like he did when he went hunting. Except this time, Keith was the hunted, not the hunter.

He did not like this one bit.

Next to him Lance shivered and the blue sparks became softly glowing spirals of frost. Keith could see his breath coming out in puffs of fog. He nudged the Druid gently with his shoulder and Lance took a deep breath on reflex. He swallowed and Keith couldn’t see his breath anymore.

The footsteps stopped again and Keith tightened his grip on his knife. He could just barely make out something through the cloud and rain. A dark shadow, taller than he was, maybe as tall as Shiro, stood on the deck just outside the particle barrier’s transparent shell. Keith swallowed over his now dry throat.

“Can it see us?” he asked without sound, just breath.

Lance didn’t speak, he just shook his head, eyes fixed on the shadowy figure. Okay then. Please be like a two-way mirror. Keith rolled his shoulders and forced himself to loosen up in preparation for a potential battle.

The figure shifted and Keith could clearly make out five glowing yellow eyes in a familiar bone mask staring directly at him. A Druid? Confused, he looked over at Lance with a frown. However, Lance was sweating and every inch of his lean figure was ready to fight. Keith was missing something. He had to be.

Turning his violet gaze back to the shadowy figure -Druid?- Keith waited. The bone mask tilted unnaturally, almost like an owl observing its prey. Keith felt his palms begin to sweat. The five yellow eyes, two one either side of the mask and one slashed vertically over the mask’s forehead like a Third Eye, shone cold and unwavering in the darkness.

Then they vanished, turning away, as the Druid figure began walking away. It moved along the deck, Keith and Lance following its progress from inside, until the footsteps faded entirely. Yet neither Keith nor Lance broke their stance.

When Taavi whimpered, Keith relaxed somewhat. The feeling of wrongness was still there, but it was fading away. _Moving_ away.

When he felt comfortable enough to move, Keith turned to Lance with every intention of demanding answers. But Lance was busy soothing Taavi and brushing his eye scale against the little boy in gentle nuzzles.

Slipping back onto the bed, Lance laid down where Keith had slept earlier next to Alve. The Druid let Taavi get comfortable before lying down next to the little boy. Lance continued to nuzzle and hum until Taavi stopping moving and his breathing eased into the slow rhythm of sleep.

“What was that?” Keith demanded softly.

Blue eyes flashed to Keith, sad and weary. “A Breeder,” he said. “One of the High Master’s favored.”

“The High Master?”

Lance pursed his lips. “Haggar,” he said.

Haggar. The Druid bitch who stole Shiro’s arm. Keith felt his blood rush to his hands and feet. He wanted to fight something.

Lance sighed. “I told you that this world is protected, hidden.” He dropped his gaze to little Taavi.

“You also said anyone who isn’t cleared to know about it is killed,” Keith said, his tone as dark as the darkness surrounding them.

“Not killed,” Lance said. “Removed. Believe me, I bet they _wished_  they were dead by the time Haggar’s Druids of the Four Directions are through with them.” He nuzzled Taavi again, probably for his own comfort.

“Vuana is our home,” Lance said slowly. “But it’s not a paradise. We’re a close knit people despite how separated we seem. We watch out for each other, we work together to raise and protect our children, and we do what we can to safeguard our home and the Myr from the fall storms.” He met Keith’s eyes again. “And from the Breeders.”

Keith sat down on the mattress and leaned against the ledge studying Lance and Taavi closely. The Druid winced and looked away.

“It’s been 10,000 deca-phoebs,” Lance whispered. “How do you think we still look like the witch and her advisor? People… _Entire races_ can change given enough time. Vuana has changed our people. We no longer think of ourselves as Altean. We are the Vuana.” He bit his lip. “But we have to maintain a strong enough genetic connection to our Altean ancestors in order to successfully interact with Altean technology.”

“Because it’s genetically locked,” Keith said.

Lance nodded, eyes sad. “That’s the Breeders’ job,” he said. “They’re a branch of Druids who answer directly to High Master Haggar and… Zarkon.” Keith frowned but Lance continued. “Our clans are usually separate during the deca-phoeb, but we all gather together for the equinox and solstice festivals. Crowds of people all in one place. People can… vanish. Children… vanish.”

“And you let this happen?” Keith said, doing his best to keep his tone even and as non-accusatory as he could. It wasn’t easy.

“Not if we can help it, no,” Lance answered, brushing Taavi’s light brown bangs from his sleeping face. “I told you we’re a close people despite our geographical and cultural differences. We protect who we can however we can. But we can’t be caught doing it outright.”

“Why not?” Keith pressed.

“Because then we’ll disappear too,” Lance said simply, “and those we tried to protect are taken anyway.”

Lance’s blue met Keith’s violet and the red paladin sighed, his shoulders drooping. “I…” Keith took a deep breath and chose his words carefully. “I don’t get it,” he admitted, “but I think I understand.” He saw relief flicker in Lance’s eyes and sighed. “Why can’t you all stop it, though? Isn’t what’s happening against a law?”

The Druid smirked, but it wasn’t in amusement. “Mm, and who is the law in the Galra Empire as it is now?” Lance asked.

Zarkon.

“And who do you think is both fully aware of and fully supports the Breeders’ actions?” Lance asked.

Zarkon. Damn.

Keith sighed and hung his head, running a hand through his hair. “Is this why you wanted to go home so bad you betrayed us?” he whispered.

Lance flinched and looked away. “I didn’t betray you,” he said, his tone almost pleading. “But yes.”

“It may not have felt like it to you,” Keith murmured. “But it did to me.” Lance looked up at him hesitantly and Keith sighed heavily. “You left. I- We were starting to work as a team to get rid of Zarkon and you just… left.” He scratched his scalp and tried to get his thoughts together. “Why do you still want to protect the Galra Empire when Zarkon allows these… _Breeder_ things to keep kidnapping kids?”

“Because Zarkon supports it,” Lance said. “The Galra do not. Or,” he amended reluctantly, “they would not. The Galra value family units. They’re clannish in a way my people aren’t. To harm a child or a non-combatant without just cause is considered a high crime.”

This was too much for his sleep addled mind to handle right now. “Will they be back?” he asked, glancing cautiously out into the cloud and rain.

Lance shook his head. “I doubt it,” he said. “Not tonight anyway. If it does, Taavi and I…” he looked up at Keith “and you too apparently, we’ll sense them.”

Keith nodded. “Because you’re Oceanborne,” he said.

“The Oceanborne are more… attuned to their surroundings,” Lance said. “We have to be. One wrong move and the ocean will kill us. Or the Myr will.” He shrugged and cuddled close to Taavi, his eyelids drooping. “We need to adapt to the changi-” He yawned. “-changing environment.”

And that was probably all Keith was going to get out of Lance tonight. With a sigh, he slid onto the bed, scooting down so he lay next to Taavi, facing Lance. He tucked his knife under his pillow within easy reach. Lance didn’t miss the move but didn’t argue.

“So,” Keith said, watching Lance struggle to stay awake, “you glow?”

Lance snorted and let his eyes drift shut without responding.


	35. Darja

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Darja considers what she knows and comes to several conclusions, some good and some bad, while Lance tries to mend a hole before it gets too big for him to handle alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** The equinox festival, action, and... the stuff you all have been waiting for is coming. Promise. It should just be in another chapter or two more.

She had no reason to distrust Lance. He’d hidden Taavi and Alve from the Breeders long before she and Ran met him. Since then, Lance had done his upmost best to keep their little family together and hidden from the Breeders’ attention. Taavi attached himself to Lance’s hip whenever he was home and Alve had adopted Lance’s sass like a true master.

But then Lance left to study with the Druids in space and something about him… changed. Darja wasn’t sure what it was, she would probably never know, but she knew Lance wasn’t the same. When Lance came back to visit their family on Vuana, he’d seemed… different. Darker.

Perhaps the most telling hint was that Taavi hadn’t run to him the last two times Lance had visited. Darja noticed the youngest boy’s odd behavior then and, when coupled with Lance’s… change, it made her uncomfortable.

Yet this time, when Lance walked right into their home without so much as a warning beforehand, Taavi had raced straight to his oldest brother and latched onto Lance’s leg. Whatever change in Lance that had begun to rub Darja’s senses the wrong way was also gone. He felt safe again. Cold, but safe.

His guest, however, was something else. Rounded ears -who in the world had rounded ears?- and violet eyes. Darja was young, but she wasn’t _that_ young. Nor was she stupid. Violet was not a color that appeared often in the natural world. The Galra were one of the few exceptions and that was genetic. So when Lance told her this Keith person was half Galra, she’d believed him.

But the half Vuana part, she was doubtful of. She wouldn’t call Lance on it because he could very well be right. It wasn’t a secret that the Vuana eye scales tended to fade away after the second or third generation without another influx of Vuana genetics. For the scales to vanish in the first generation of mixed breeds wasn’t unheard of, though. The exiled Prince Lotor was a perfect example of that.

But that still left Keith’s behavior. The stranger’s shock and awe of the Myr made sense if he had been raised in space with the Galra or even on another planet. It was his mannerisms that irked her the most. He was curt, though not outright rude, and blunt in his explanations. He never gave details or went out of his way to explain anything. It was just off putting.

But perhaps the thing about Keith that stood out the most to Darja was how he continually stayed close to Lance. Granted, Lance had openly told her that Keith was his charge as a Druid, but it was more than that. Keith seemed to trust Lance. No completely, not by any stretch that Darja could tell. But he did trust him.

That was not common. In Darja’s experience, most charges were downright distrustful of their Druid protectors. She knew this from both Lance’s complaining and from her own, if limited, observations. Even the Galra who worked with the Druids regularly didn’t entirely trust them.

But Keith trusted Lance.

More importantly, Lance trusted Keith. That was what prevented Darja from going out of her away to keep herself or Lance between him and the younger children. Then, when Alve and Ran began teasing Keith, the stranger hadn’t reacted badly. He had flinched and been stunned by the attention, but that was to be expected when young, overly enthusiastic children ambushed someone. Even Taavi had spoken to him, although he stayed predictably hidden behind Lance’s legs.

Not once did Keith lash out or yell and that’s what mattered to Darja. He’d been polite. Careful and uneasy, but polite.

Darja approved of him.

Then last night happened…

She looked over at where Keith sat on the edge of the wood and metal deck encircling their little home, kicking his legs and talking with Lance in quiet tones. He’d been awake when the Breeder came. Darja was neither Waterbound nor Treebound. She had always migrated between Freya and Frey for as long as she could remember. She wasn’t sensitive to the aura the Breeders oozed until they were almost on top of her though she was better than the average person.

She knew Lance and Taavi were Oceanborne and could sense them, which was why she wasn’t surprised to wake up to Taavi’s quiet whimpers and Lance’s soft hums and a creeping uneasiness clawing up her spine. But when she heard Keith’s soft voice, she held her peace and chose to listen instead.

What she heard made her heart quail. Lance had been talking softly to Keith about things any true born Vuana would know. Things no Vuana would ever openly speak about. Things that made her gut twistingly furious and terrified enough to break out in a cold sweat. Worse, Keith didn’t seem to know anything.

And then Keith said something about ‘getting rid of Zarkon’ and Darja felt every doubt she had ever had slam back into her full force. Lance had been working against Zarkon. Lance had betrayed someone. Lance had _betrayed_ someone.

Lance had lied to her.

She stopping working on installing the small, fresh Balmera crystal into their home’s power array so her hands would stop shaking. Lance hadn’t always told her to whole truth, but he had never outright lied to her before. Until now.

Keith wasn’t part Vuana. Darja would bet everything she had on that. And yet Lance had not only brought him here to Vuana but Lance was protecting him. That, combined with the unexpectedly early visit and what she’d heard last night, made her afraid. She couldn’t afford to be afraid, especially so close to the equinox festival. She had to be at her best if she planned to keep her little family safe and whole.

Lance was endangering her family. But Lance was a part of her family. The conflicting loyalties made her question everything. Why was Lance lying to her? Why was a Breeder so close to their home last night? What right did one of those slimy bastards have to be so close to her family?

There was a quiet squeak below her and she opened her eyes -when had she closed them?- to see a little blue mouse sitting by her hand. A mouse? In _her_ home? Not on her watch.

She raised her hand to swipe it away towards the deck where it would fly through the openings where the particle barriers had been and run away. There would be no mice or pests in her home. But the mouse ducked her swipe, cheeped, and ran up her _dress!_

“What the?” She stumbled to her feet, shaking the thin fabric of her skirt and patting it with her hands until the squealing blue mouse tumbled to the floor. “You little-”

“Chulatt!”

Before she could swat it away, the mouse was scooped up by a pair of familiar hands that were Oceanborne dark and calloused from work. Annoyed, she lifted her eyes to Lance and frowned.

“Lance,” she said, “what are the rules about pets?”

To his credit, Lance flushed in embarrassment. But he didn’t take the mouse outside to let it go, nor did he apologize for the commotion. He just stood and let the mouse crawl up his shirt to sit on his shoulder. He even held up a finger to pet the little blue tuft of fur on it head and let the mouse grab and hold his finger with its tiny paws.

Darja planted both hand on her hips and lifted her eyebrows. “Care to explain?” she said.

Lance tried to smile, but it quickly cracked and fell. He gulped. “Um,” he began. She blinked. “Would you believe me if I said we’re telepathically linked?” he asked wincing.

She scoffed. “That’s ridiculous.”

“It’s true though.”

Keith. Darja narrowed her eyes at the person who shouldn’t be here and waited for him to continue.

“Lance isn’t the only one who can talk to the mice that way,” Keith said, shifting his body ever so slightly. If Darja hadn’t already suspected something, she might have missed the way Keith’s stance attempted to shield Lance from the force of her ire.

“Mice?” she repeated.

Keith flushed but nodded. “There’s only one here,” he said quickly, “but there are others.”

That didn’t make it better. Still, she looked around their home, taking note of Alve and Ran rough housing on the floor and Taavi napping peacefully on the bed. She hummed.

“You boys have something to tell me,” she said finally. “I expect this of foreigners, but not from you Lance.” Her brother blinked in confusion. “You lied to me.”

And like that, her brother’s eyes widened and his face paled. He ducked his head in shame. “You don’t want to know, Darja,” he said in a low voice. “Trust me, you don’t want to know.”

“About what?” she pressed, keeping her voice low so as not to attract the children’s attention. “The part where Keith isn’t part Vuana, or the part where you tried to fight the emperor?”

Lance flinched, his head whipping up to stare at her in horror. Next to him, Keith’s eyes hardened and his fingers twitched for a weapon. So at least part of what Lance told her was true. Keith was a warrior.

“What makes you say that?” he hissed.

“Keith,” Lance said, covering Keith’s hand with his own. “Don’t. Please.”

Darja watched as Keith visibly forced himself to back down. Strange behavior, yet again. Why would Keith protect the Druid assigned to protect him? Unless he wasn’t assigned at all.

“Lance,” Darja said, her voice stern but not hateful, “who assigned Keith to your charge?”

The stunned expression on Lance’s face was answer enough. She shouldn’t be surprised. This was Lance. Darja had grown up with Druid parents. She knew the risks they took just by existing and everyone knew the rules governing the proper relationship between a Druid and their charges. Charges were never chosen by the Druid, they were _assigned_ to the Druid. This helped prevent potentially compromising relationships from developing.

The Vuana were a fiercely protective people by nature. They had to be. Vuana was a dangerous world and with the Breeders… The Druids were trained in their specialized quintessence to protect. But Druids were Vuana and the desire to protect was always there, right under the surface.

Darja had always known this about her parents. The only charges a Druid was ever allowed to choose to protect were their family. Darja had been her parents’ chosen charge. Until one day they didn’t come home and she’d been left alone under the protection of the Vuana population.

Lance was a Master Druid now. He knew better than to choose a charge other than someone assigned to him. He _knew_ better. So then why?

“A fucked up wormhole did,” Keith said.

Darja blinked. She may not know what ‘fucked’ meant, but she knew a curse word when she heard one. And she knew how to deal with anyone who cursed near her children. But doing that would draw attention. She could wait. She could be patient. Besides, she was curious.

“A wormhole assigned you to him,” she said, her tone flat with disbelief.

Glaring, Keith took a slow, deliberate breath before answering. “Your emperor,” he said, enunciating every word clearly, “captured one of our team, lured the rest of us into a trap, and attacked us. When we tried to escape, he fucked up our wormhole-” Darja’s eye twitched “-and we were shot out here.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Darja said, meeting Keith glare for formidable glare.

“It’s the truth,” Keith said.

“Lance,” Darja said, without breaking eye contact with Keith, “who assigned Keith to you?”

She knew. She _knew_. But she needed to hear it.

“No one.”

She sighed, her eyes falling closed. “Lance,” she said.

“I know,” he said.

She opened her eyes and watched her brother practically wilt in front of her.

“I know,” he said again, softer this time. “But I can’t…” He squeezed his eyes shut and grimaced. “I couldn’t just sit back and do nothing.”

“What does that have to do with him?” Darja said, her ebony eyes locking on Keith’s violet once more. When her brother didn’t answer right away, she looked back at him and… By the ‘Verse, was that…? Oh. It was. She sighed, relenting.

“I see,” she said. She saw the confusion on Keith’s face from the corner of her eye. Ah, so he didn’t know yet. Well, it wasn’t her place to say.

“I was awake last night,” she said, changing subjects. Lance lifted his head, his blue eyes cold and hard. Keith, however, looked caught between fright and hatred. “Thank you for protecting us,” Darja said to her brother’s Chosen. Violet eyes widened in surprise. “Although, I have to ask,” she paused, glancing around the area to be sure there were no eavesdroppers, “how could you sense them with no Vuana in your blood?”

Keith blinked, taken aback, and turned to Lance. However, even Lance didn’t seem to have an answer to his sister’s question. Lance’s eyes were gazing up at Keith hopefully, openly curious. Color bloomed in Keith’s cheeks as he stuttered and huffed.

“I don’t know,” Keith said eventually, crossing his arms in frustration. “It just felt wrong.”

Darja nodded. “They do,” she agreed. “I can’t sense them until they’re too close for me to do much of anything. The same goes for Alve and Ran.”

“Because they’re not Oceanborne?”

She nodded.

Keith rolled his shoulders and frowned in thought. “They’re disgusting,” he growled, fury sparking in his eyes. “I’ll kill him.”

She blinked. “Who?”

Violet eyes locked on her own black, hot and angry. “Zarkon.”

* * *

Too far. Lance bit his lip as he watched the emotions flash across his sister’s face. When she finally settled on shock, he was ready for her questions.

“It has to stop, Darja,” he said. “Everything… This,” he waved his hand to where the children where beginning to notice they were being left out of the conversation, “is worth protecting.”

“It- Yes, it is, but not at-”

“Zarkon allowed the inner ring of the Central Command System to be attacked,” he said, cutting her off.

This time, Darja’s face was something more akin to horror. “He what?” she gasped.

Keith pressed his lips in grim line and ducked his head. Lance ignored him in favor of telling his sister as much as he dared.

“He lured the Lions of Voltron into the Central Command System and raised the solar barrier,” he said. “Then he engaged them, firing on the rings just as often as the Lions. I was there, Darja. I _watched_ it happen.” He squared his shoulders. “I refuse to willingly serve that quiz- mm,” he glanced quickly at the children and picked another word, “filthy excuse of a creature.”

“Zarkon is immortal,” Darja argued, her hands clenching into fists at her side. “You can’t kill him.”

“Everything can die,” Keith said, his eyes shifting to Lance. “Someone I know once told me that.” He smirked. “Yelled it at me, actually.”

Lance flushed. “It’s true,” he said defensively.

Keith shrugged but grinned. “And that’s why I’m going to kill him,” he said proudly. “No one messes with kids. Or my team or my home.” His eyes narrowed. “I’ll kill them first.”

“Besides,” Lance said serious, “I never swore loyalty to the emperor, only the Gala Empire. You, my family, Vuana, Keith and o-our team-” he studiously ignored the surprise on Keith’s face “-are part of that empire. If Zarkon is ready to throw away innocents and non-combatants to get what he wants,” Lance glared, “then he needs to be… removed.”

Darja frowned, then pursed her lips. She knew what he meant but she wasn’t ready to say she agreed yet or not. That was all well and good. Lance didn’t want to drag his family into this if he could avoid it. He loved them too much. If he lost them, it would break him. He knew it would.

If he lost one of the little ones to the Breeders, then, even if he saw them again, they wouldn’t know him. And he wouldn’t know them. He was beginning to suspect he knew what the Breeders did to the ones they took, and it disgusted him.

“What’re you talking about?”

Startled, Lance looked down to see Alve poking her head between his and Keith’s legs. How long had she been there?

“Nothing,” Darja said, clearly pushing her worry away so she could deal with Alve. “Come on. Let finish getting everything ready for the festival.”

“You’re keeping secrets,” Alve said, huffing and crossing her arms.

“Of course, we are,” Lance said, winking at his little sister. “That’s what adults do. We keep secrets.”

Alve’s brown eyes flashed as she stomped her foot. “I want to know, too,” she insisted. “Tell me.”

“Oh!” Ran hollered, clobbering his sister in his rush to get involved. “Me too. Tell me too.”

Lance made a show of thinking it over. “Hmm. No.”

Keith huffed and Lance fought back a grin. “Your big brother has a tattoo,” Keith said.

“Yes, I-” Lance paused, and looked at Keith in confusion. “How do you know that?”

“I saw it last night,” Keith answered, grinning. He leaned down and half hid his mouth as he said not softly at all, “It’s huge and it glows.”

Lance blushed. “It’s not that big,” he argued.

“Yeah, we know that,” Ran said. “What’s the secret?”

“Um… That… was the secret?” Keith said, the picture of confused innocence.

Alve stared hard at the red paladin before groaning. “Adults are boring.”

The faintest hint of color appeared in Keith’s cheeks and Lance couldn’t resist. “There you go again, making Red jealous,” he teased. “You have got to stop doing that before she decides to take matters into her own hands.”

The blush intensified as Keith glared at Lance. Well, he tried to anyway. “Hey,” Keith said. “Stop saying that. I am not b-blushing.”

“Yeah you are,” Ran said. He stood on his tiptoes and pointed at the red paladin’s cheeks. “See? They’re all red.”

Lance snorted and Keith’s eyes locked on him. For a second, Lance had victory. Then Keith smirked and the Lance could feel his victory slipping through his fingers.

“Oh yeah?” Keith said, his eyes promising punishment. “Well, I can think of something that’ll give Red a run for her money.”

Lance didn’t want to know. Keith lunged and yes Lance _really didn’t want to know what the quiznak st- stop!_

“Get him!”

He had no chance. Outnumbered and betrayed by his own family, Lance collapsed to the floor in fits of twitching, contorting, and breathless laughter from the surprise tickle attack. Frak. At least he got in a good quintessence zap at Keith’s sm- ass. That high-pitched shriek that momentarily distracted the kids was worth every cramp he would have from this.

Although, Lance wasn’t sure Keith would forgive him for that. At least Chulatt hadn’t gotten involved other than laughing at his expense. He slumped weakly to the floor, breathing hard and still smiling. He noticed Darja watching him and his smile fell.

He trusted her to protect their family. He just hoped she didn’t think she had to protect their family from him. Lance wasn’t sure he would survive that.


	36. Dispute

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Keith does not like being a rag doll, Lance has a temper, but Keith's temper burns hotter, especially in the presence of oil and ice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** Yes, there are records of out-of-season hurricanes in the past few years. Some more powerful than others. And even regular, in-season hurricanes have been known to reach the northern latitudes. Case in point: Hurricane Ophelia hitting Ireland and the British Isles just this fall.  
>  But this storm is a bit... stronger than the ones Earth is familiar with. Anyone who's seen the episode "The Storm" from season 1 of _Stargate: Atlantis_ , then that's what I'm talking about. Vuana is largely a waterworld, meaning it's almost entirely covered in ocean with very few exceptions. Those exceptions are where the Vuana people live. 
> 
> If it's just now spring in the hemisphere where the Vuana people live, then that means the other hemisphere was experiencing summer and a midnight sun. Think about that for a second. A waterworld with sunlight warming the water's surface all day and all night for months straight. That could easily spool up a hurricane. Now imagine a hurricane like this years (2017's) Irma or Maria with little to no land to slow them down and weaken them. Watch 'The Storm' to get an idea of what would happen.
> 
> Now geologists, why would there be mountains and land in the middle of a waterworld? Why would there be islands in the middle of an ocean at all? Just throwing that little tidbit out there. Vuana is indeed a dangerous world.

“Lance?” Keith called from his spot on the deck next to Ran and Alve.

The kids looked up at his voice, mildly curious before returning to their game of rough housing. Honestly, after the first few times Alve had nearly thrown Ran over the edge giving Keith a heart attack and drawing no real concern from Darja or Lance, he’d chosen to simply ignore their antics. It was too stressful. These people were crazy.

And Lance was ignoring him. Keith frowned. Maybe the Druid just didn’t hear him. …Fat chance.

Swinging his legs back onto the wood and metal deck, Keith got to his feet and walked around to the nearest path that connected Lance’s small home to one of the many enormous branches. Seriously though, this Yggdrasil tree was freaking huge. It was disorienting.

Also, minor annoyance, because the paths between gazebo-things, platforms, and pod homes were designed to flow with the natural growth of the tree and its branches, there was no such thing as a straight line. Anywhere.  It was becoming immensely frustrating. Keith was not in the mood to puzzle his way over a couple yards of open air drops to oblivion and solid branches when he could just walk five feet and be done with it.

Whatever. At least there were stairs built into Yggdrasil’s massive trunk and connecting different levels of platforms. So that was a plus. No lifts.

He sighed in relief when he finally stepped on the small platform where Lance and a handful of other Vuana were standing. They were all staring somewhere out beyond the leaf and tangled branches surrounding their arboreal home. Stupid Space Elves and their stupid super sight. Was that even a thing?

“Hey, Lance,” he said, stepping up next to his friend. Friend. The thought brought a small smile to his face.

Lance practically jumped a foot in the air at Keith’s voice and yes, Keith would not let him live that down. The annoyed expression of Lance’s face made it very clear Lance knew Keith would make him suffer for that. Which was probably why the Vuanan boy planted his hand on Keith’s face and pushed him away. That had _better_ be the reason.

“What the-” Keith grabbed Lance’s hand and pulled it off, rubbing his squashed and aching nose. “What the _hell,_ man,” Keith snapped. “That freaking hurt. What was that for?”

“Maybe next time, you won’t sneak up on me,” Lance said, rolling his eyes. He didn’t pull his hand out of Keith’s grip, though.

Keith huffed and leaned against the metal railing surrounding most of the platform. “Whatever,” he grumbled. “Geez. I won’t bother checking up on you next time.”

Lance blinked and tilted his head to Keith with an odd expression. He looked away after a moment, but Keith was pretty sure there was a faint blush on the Druid’s cheeks. Or it could have been the speckled shadows moving over Lance’s face, messing with the light. It was probably that. Yeah.

“Oh. Thank you,” Lance whispered.

Yeah. Had to be the light.

“So,” Keith said after clearing his throat, “What are y’all looking at?”

Lance looked at him weirdly. “Yee-all?”

Oh my god. Not here too.

“Y’all,” Keith repeated. “As in ‘you all.’ What are you all looking at, mister nitpicking word person?”

Lance scrunched his face. “What kind of name is that?”

“Oh my god. Are you going to answer the freaking question or are you going to question every word choice I make?” Keith said, waving his arms in annoyance.

Lance snorted, and immediately blushed when Keith smirked. Rolling his eyes, Lance shook his head and turned back to the questionable view through the leaves.

“It may be nothing,” he said after a minute, startling Keith from his thoughts. “But the Oceanborne are late this deca-phoeb. They’re usually here by now.”

Keith frowned and followed his friend’s gaze towards the ocean beyond the leaves. He couldn’t see much, but he could make out the blue-green water against the blue sky despite the high cirrus feathering overhead.

“It may be nothing,” Lance muttered, probably to himself. “Everyone runs late every now and then.”

That sounded more like the Druid was trying to convince himself than like he actually believed it. Not encouraging.

“Is there any way to contact them?” Keith asked.

Lance opened his mouth to answer, then paused and tilted his head thoughtfully. “Maybe,” he murmured. He tightened his hold on Keith’s hand and stepped away from the railing towards one of the branching paths. “Come with me.”

Not that Keith had much of a choice considering Lance hadn’t let go of his hand and was practically _dragging_ Keith along behind him. After a couple embarrassing seconds of stumbling, Keith settled into the brisk pace Lance set.

“Um, where are we going?” he said, dodging to the side when a Vuana woman slipped by going the opposite direction on the same path.

“Up.”

“Up?” Keith lifted his eyes to the thick canopy of branches, leaves, and platforms above them. And promptly tripped. Dadgummit. _Why?_ “Why are we going up?” He hopped over a knot in the wooden path. “And why are you taking me?”

“Because I want to get a better view and because I can,” Lance replied.

Blue eyes flashed back to Keith’s violet and winked. Keith groaned. He was the red paladin and damn it he was sick and tired of blushing. Warmth like tongues of flame licked the threads of his consciousness as the Red Lion laughed at him. Keith frowned. Betrayed by his own Lion. What the heck.

Red crooned and made a… coughing sound? What the heck was that? Red? Why did Red cough? And now she was upset with him? What? Why was she acting like this? Keith gasped when Red gave him the equivalent of a smack over the head with a mental paw. Okay. Now he was offended _and_ confused.

“What did you do?” Lance said suddenly.

Keith caught himself before he walked right into the Druid who just stopped for no apparent reason in the middle of the path to stare at him like _he_ was lunatic.

“Excuse me?” he said. The beginnings of a smirk began to appear on Lance’s face and Keith quickly clapped his free hand over the Druid’s mouth, shutting him up. “Do _not_ say ‘you’re excused’ or so help me I will hurt you.”

A thin brown eyebrow formed a perfect arch over a blue eyes that sparkled with mirth. Keith hardened his gaze and _what the actual fuck?!_

“Did you just _lick_ my _hand?!”_ he cried, yanking his hand away, flapping it in the air and rubbing it frantically against his pants to get the saliva off.

“What?” Lance teased. “You can lick other people’s hands but you can’t let your own hand get licked?” He scoffed. “Sounds unfair to me.”

Keith glared because he refused to acknowledge the growing blush in his cheeks and gnawing prick at his conscience. Chuckling, Lance turned and began dragging Keith down the path again. That was really getting annoying, by the way.

“So, what did you do?” Lance asked again, ignoring Keith’s growing frustration.

“What do you mean, what did _I_ do?” Keith snapped.

Lance smirked. “Well, whatever you did, Blue is highly amused because Red is sulking.”

Oh. “I didn’t do anything,” Keith insisted. “She made this weird coughing sound and I just asked what that was.” He watched the Druid’s shoulders begin to shake, narrowing his eyes. “What?”

“Nothing,” Lance said in a sing-song voice.

Uh huh. Sure it was.

“I just thought it was funny how-”

There it is.

“-you seem to find other people’s laughter so amusing,” Lance finished.

What? Wait. Was that... Red? Was that coughing sound… laughter? Had Red been laughing at him? And he’d inadvertently made fun of her for it! Ah damn, he felt awful. He was so sorry. He didn’t mean to. It was an accident. He just didn’t know. Crap. He felt so horrible right now.

He had the vague sense of Red’s ear twitching and a sharp jab of fire that was a single claw poke him. He really was sorry. He didn’t mean to make fun of her. He just didn’t know what… that sound was? Sorry?

Red was silent for a tense minute before Keith heard her huff a breath of hot air into his mind. She forgave him but she would make sure he paid for making fun of her. Keith winced. He wasn’t looking forward to whatever insanity she had planned for him.

When he finally looked around him, his eyes widened. “Holy shit,” he breathed.

They weren’t at the very top of Yggdrasil, but they were high enough that it made Keith’s survival instincts twinge when he looked down. The platform they stood on was the largest he’d seen with metal beams curving over them much like they did on Lance’s home.

This place could also be protected from the elements by particle barriers too, apparently. Interesting. homes and buildings open to the air except during the night or bad weather seemed to be a common practice here. Not that Keith was complaining. He liked it.

When he thought about it, it made sense. Most of these people spent winter inside a globe city under the water so this was probably the first time they’d felt fresh air since last fall. Keith wasn’t sure how long seasons or months were on this planet, but he wouldn’t be surprised if they were longer than the seasons on Earth.

The leaves weren’t as thick up here and Keith could see through to the ocean much easier. They were almost completely surrounded by water except for in one direction. He wasn’t sure what direction it was exactly, but he had to turn completely around to see it.

Spread out not too far away was a rough, mountainous landscape covered in ice caps and glaciers reaching all the way to the ocean. The land didn’t look very large. It was probably the size of Iceland. Maybe. That was probably pushing it, though.

Nevertheless, on the lowlands stretching from the ocean and up some of the slopes that weren’t completely covered by ice and snow were agricultural fields. Scattered between fields of crops were fenced in bounds of land where Keith could just barely make out moving specks. The darker blotches that didn’t move were probably homesteads. They were hard to make out though because their roofs were almost the same color as the surrounding land. Turf roofs maybe?

Further away to Keith’s right was a wall of white floating on top of the ocean’s surface. It spread from the land like fingers, covering the water in white. That must be the ice flows he and Lance had crashed into with their Lions.

Speaking of which, he reached out to Red and felt her purr appreciatively at his concern. She and Blue were hiding high on the mainland. Keith could feel Red’s disdain for the Blue Lion’s love of water. Blue might have an affinity for water and ice but Red needed heat and sunlight. So they compromised. With luck, they would go unnoticed up here.

She liked the boiling heart of this particular mountain. It burned and broiled and made her insides shudder with joy. She wanted to bathe in its heat and watch the Blue Lion shudder in disgust.

Keith snorted. Sometimes he wondered if the Lions of Voltron weren’t just overgrown domestic cat siblings.

And Lance was being very quiet.

Suspicious, Keith turned around to the conspicuously quiet Druid. One look at Lance’s face and Keith got a bad feeling in his gut. He followed Lance’s gaze to the ocean in the opposite direction of the mainland and frowned. They would probably have another storm later judging from the clouds on the horizon.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, not sure what was making Lance so pale.

“Keith.”

Keith did not like that tone.

“Do you see anything on the water?” Lance asked.

Confused but curious, Keith scanned the ocean’s surface as best he could. There was something…

“Um, I think there’s a ship or something,” he said. “But it’s hard to tell. It’s too far away.” He glanced at Lance again, disconcerted. “Why?”

“I think I know why the Oceanborne are late.”

“Okay. Cryptic, but okay. Care to elaborate?” Keith pressed.

Lance nodded to the horizon. “See those clouds?” he said.

Keith nodded. “Looks like a storm or something,” he said. “We’ll probably get rain again tonight. Why?”

“That shouldn’t be there,” Lance said, his blue eyes flicking frantically across the skyline. “We shouldn’t be seeing anything like that until fall.”

Keith shook his head and stared at the clouds again. “I don’t get it,” he said reluctantly. “Why just the fall…” Oh. “Holy crap. It’s a hurricane.”

Blue eyes broke off from the approaching storm to stare at Keith in confusion. “What’s a hurricane?” Lance asked.

“It’s this giant storm we get on my home planet,” Keith said. “I mean, I don’t know a lot about them because I grew up in the desert and never went to the beach unless Shiro dragged me there when I was young. But I know they’re huge and happen during fall. They’re miles across with this calm eye in the center and can wipe islands nearly off the map.” He swallowed nervously. “I thought this was the spring equinox,” he said uncertainly.

“It is.”

“Then, if the sun doesn’t really shine up here during winter, then how the hell is the ocean supposed to be warm enough to spool up a hurricane?” Keith demanded.

Lance shook his head, mouthing moving but no words coming out. He gulped and whispered, “I don’t know.” His eyes skipped back to the ocean’s surface. “But if those are ships, then that means they’re the Oceanborne. We need to get them here before the storm hits.”

“Okay. And how are we going to do that without our Lions?” Keith said wryly.

“We get help.”

Nope! Not going to be yanked around again.

“Stop!” Keith shouted, drawing the attention of the few Vuana up here. He dug his heels in and refused to budge, forcing Lance to jerk back to him. “You need to explain what’s going on _without_ yanking around like freaking rag doll.”

Lance grit his teeth, his eyes flashing between Keith’s face and the storm on the horizon. “Keith, please,” he said. “Let me handle this then I’ll explain.”

“They can wait a few more seconds,” Keith insisted, tightening his grip on the Druid’s hand. “Tell me what’s going on. There’s a hurricane coming. Great. Out of season hurricanes aren’t usually super strong. At least they aren’t on Earth, anyway. I don’t think. Besides, I think you’re missing the main problem here.”

Brown eyebrows dropped low over blue eyes in confusion. “What’s that?” Lance said.

This was wrong.

How…? Keith gestured broadly around them. “We’re in a giant freaking tree,” he said. “If that is a hurricane, and we can’t be sure of that unless you have a weather satellite up there orbiting this place or whatever to confirm it, then the first thing we need to do is evacuate everyone from here and get them inland. Or,” he gestured vaguely to the mountains, “up there to higher ground.”

Lance’s mouth dropped open as he stared at the land. “Oh ‘Verse. The Earthbound. We have to warn them. We have to get them to Yggdrasil.”

This was _so_ wrong.

“Wait, no. You don’t bring people _into_ a _tree_ to escape a hurricane!” Keith cried, yanking Lance back before the crazy Druid tried to run away again. This was all _wrong!_ “You get everyone out of the tree and onto land. Everyone knows the best place to be during a hurricane is inland.”

Lance glared. “Oh yes, and where will we fit our entire population, Keith?” he demanded, anger seeping into his words. “We have shields on Yggdrasil. We can protect ourselves here. The Earthbound don’t have that kind of protection. We need to get there here.”

Keith fumed, the feeling seeping into his veins like oil. “The barriers that cover your houses may keep out the rain and flying debris,” he shouted, “but if the branch or anchors or whatever the hell you have holding your buildings in place break,  _then_ what? You go flying with your homes.”

“We have a shield big enough to protect Yggdrasil,” Lance said, clenching his free hand into a fist by his side.

“You have a shield big enough to cover this entire tree,” Keith said in a flat, disbelieving tone.

“Yes!” Lance shouted.

“Bullshit.”

“You-!” Lance fumed. His checks burned bright red and his entire body was shaking with fury. His blue eyes sparked when he lifted a finger and poked it tauntingly against Keith’s chest. “You are not from here. You may understand hurricanes from your Earth, but you have no idea about my home, _my_ planet.”

“I realize that,” Keith snapped, trying to hold back the oily anger threatening to burst into flame “but you need to think this through before you go gallivanting off-”

“I have no idea what that means,” Lance hissed in annoyance.

“-to who-knows-where,” Keith continued, raising his voice to talk over Lance as his control slipped, “dragging me along behind you like _baggage-_ ”

“Those,” Lance interrupted loudly, pointing to the still distant ships on the horizon, “are _my_ people. I am _going_ to go out there and drag them back here where we, the _Vuana_ , can protect them.”

“Again,” Keith groaned, “how the _fuck_ are you going to do that without our Lio-”

“And _those_ ,” Lance snapped, stepping into Keith’s personal space and pointing to the mainland, “are my people too. And I’m going to go drag those willing to come to Yggdrasil and help those who won’t come get to the caves near the mountains. And there is _nothing_ ,” he stepped threateningly close to Keith, deliberately crowding him, “you can do to stop me.”

“Oh really?” Keith said, glaring straight into stormy blue eyes.

“Yes,” Lance hissed.

“Bullshit.”

Lance looked on the verge of erupting into another fury-fueled explosion of angry shouts when-

“Is there a reason why you’re disturbing the peace?”

Blue eyes snapped to the intruder. “This has nothing to do with-” Lance broke off abruptly, paling dramatically.

Surprised by the Druid’s sudden change in mood, Keith looked over his shoulder and was struck by a surge of the same slimy _wrongness_ he’d felt last night. Damn it! He’d been feeling this the whole time! How had he not noticed earlier?

Breeder.

“Back off,” Keith said, keeping a firm grip on Lance’s hand, crushing the dark, slender fingers in his own. “This has nothing to do with you.”

The Breeder had short blonde hair that framed a dark face, brown eyes, and green eye scales. It was strange seeing a Breeder without the creepy Druid mask and robes. The guy looked normal, aside from the oily filth seeping off him in waves. It made Keith snarl in disgust.

When heat brushed his mind, backing his growing sense of disgust, Keith grinned. The Red Lion sent her full supporting hatred for that oil slick surging into her paladin’s consciousness. She wanted to burn it into oblivion. Keith couldn’t find fault in that.

The Breeder sighed, looking for all the world like _he_ was the one being put upon. “Since I can’t enjoy the fresh air without suffering through your-”

“Fuck off,” Keith bit out, cutting off the Breeder’s words before he could finish.

Brown eyes met Keith’s violet, the faintest hint of annoyance glinting there before vanishing, replaced by boredom. The Breeder smiled. “Is that a Galra curse word?” he asked, a deceptively easy smile on his face. “I’m afraid I’m unfamiliar with their vulga-”

“I’m sorry, maybe I wasn’t being clear,” Keith said, smirking. “Fuck. Off.”

The annoyance returned to those brown eyes and this time it wasn’t smothered as fast. The Breeder’s smile sharpened. “Eloquent.”

Keith glared.

“You should control your charge, Druid,” the Breeder said, his brown eyes never shifting from Keith’s violet even though his words were for Lance. “With a temper like that, one would almost think he was Galra.”

“Half Galra,” Lance said.

“Ah,” the Breeder sighed in disappointment. “How unfortunate. He has good genes.”

Keith felt ice begin to tickle his skin from where Lance’s fingers were crushed in his own still. He ignored it in favor of matching the Breeder glare for passive smile. Then the Breeder’s eyes drifted to Lance. His smile widened briefly.

“I know it may be difficult, what with your genetics, you understand,” he said, maddeningly calm despite Lance’s sharp nails now digging into Keith’s palm, “but I think we’d all appreciate it if you’d try to keep your voices down. We don’t all want to listen to your… domestic disputes.”

Keith twitched, prevented from slashing the bastard’s throat with his knife like his and the Red Lion’s every instinct _screamed_ at him to do by Lance’s insanely tight grip on his hand.

“Have a safe walk down to the shore,” the Breeder said. “Someone should be there to greet the Oceanborne when they arrive. Better a relative than a stranger.” His smile softened. “Or so I’m told.”

Keith didn’t have to look to recognize a flinch when he felt one. Red roared in fury. She _hated_ that creature and Keith found himself in absolute agreement. He refused to move until the Breeder left the platform and was out of sight. Only then did he start walking towards a path going the opposite direction the Breeder went.

He vaguely remembered the way back to Lance’s home, but right now he didn’t care where they went so long as it was _away._ He could still feel the oil slick that was the Breeder’s presence staining his senses and it made him feel filthy. He needed a shower.

Did Vuana even have showers? Fuck. He’d duck into the ocean if he had to. And if Lance thought he was going to slip out of Keith’s sight today, he had another thing coming.


	37. Patience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lance gets defensive, teases a certain paladin, and Keith may finally get to meet a cryptid up close and personal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **EDIT 11/29/17:** I completely forgot to post the link to the _Stargate: Atlantis_ scenes describing what kind of storm is coming in this fic. That’s what I get for posting stuff passed midnight.
> 
> Here’s the link to [ ‘The Storm’](https://m.youtube.com/watch?t=413s&v=vLNRcOj-_4c) episode. The audio has been dropped to a lower register to avoid copyright strikes, but it’s the best I could find. Just watch from 1:15-5:23.
> 
>  **A/N:** Hey. Sorry I didn't update yesterday. I literally fell asleep while writing. It was awkward. I woke up at 1am with a crick in my neck so I just punted it and crashed. So I'm posting this now in apology. Whoops~

He missed him. How the frell had he _missed_ a Breeder? He had _never_ missed a Breeder’s slimy presence before. Not even when he’d been in the ranks of the Druids assigned to the Galra battlecruisers. Breeders typically stayed close to the Central Command System which was partially why it was so difficult to find and retrieve the Vuana they had taken. The security and risk of harming non-combatants was too high.

Yet despite his natural affinity for detecting them, he had _missed_ the Breeder’s approach. Worse, it had commented on Keith’s genetics and implied it knew Lance’s as well. Although the chances of that were not necessarily low, anyone from Vuana knew what to look for, the implications of those comments were anything but pleasant. Just the thought of what the Breeder meant made Lance sick to his stomach.

Maybe it would be best if he went down to greet the Oceanborne when they arrived. He should probably bring Taavi too. It would be good to see the Myr. It was getting close to when Taavi would be due to get his tattoo, if he decided to embrace that side of hi-

“Ow!” he cried when Keith gave his arm a particularly vicious jerk unexpectedly to the right. “Frell, that hurts.”

The red paladin didn’t answer. He hadn’t spoken at all since they left the highest overlook of Frey. It was beginning to make Lance uncomfortable. Well, the unnecessarily tight grip on his hand was doing that already. Keith didn’t have much to speak of in the way of fingernails, but what he did have was digging into the skin of his hand and cutting off his circulation. 

Did the crazy paladin have any idea where he was going anyway?

“Keith, I’m serious. You need to slow down,” Lance said, trying to pry the red paladin’s fingers off of him with no success. “Let go. Keith, _let go.”_

“No!” Keith snapped, stopping without warning. He turned to grab Lance’s chin and force their eyes to meet. “No. I am sick and tired of getting hints dropped here and teasing detailing there. These,” he gestured to the settlement of Frey, “may be your people, but that _,”_ he pointed back to where they left the Breeder, “ _thing_ is not. It’s a threat and I don’t know how you deal with threats here, but where I come from? We put them down. Permanently.”

“You think we haven’t tried that?” Lance hissed angrily, unable to break the Human’s hold on his chin. “It’s been 10,000 deca-phoebs, Keith. Do you really think there weren’t any uprisings or disagreements with Za-” He cut himself off when a Vuana passed too close for comfort. “With that quiznak,” he said, lowering his voice, “or anyone who agrees with his disastrous methods? There have been several. Why else do you think we have peace right now?”

“I don’t know,” Keith groaned, rolling his eyes. “Maybe because you’re pacifists who let those things steal your own children rather than-”

Infuriated, Lance grabbed a handful of Keith’s black hair and yanked the Human’s head back. “Finish that sentence and I’ll rip your head off,” he said, ignoring the way the hand holding his head and slipped lower to his throat. “My people are an endangered species. We fight for what little we have because it’s all we are _allowed_ to have. We have protection, the few pockets of resistance movements haven’t been able to find us, and we are cut off from contact with anyone other than through cleared Galra channels.”

Keith coughed and somehow managed to shoot Lance a formidable glare despite his current situation. “At least the Galra didn’t sneak into your system, kidnap your people who hadn’t even had First Contact before, and enslaved them,” Keith growled angrily.

“You’re right,” Lance said. “We don’t. We just have systematic crowd control movements, children who go missing and who _may_ turn up later changed for the worse, and others who are so inbred they’re essentially vegetables. All to make sure we maintain ‘genetic purity.’ By order of Emperor Zarkon.”

He yanked is hand out of Keith’s hair and pushed the red paladin away. He watched Keith stumble back before jolting forward himself. Frak. Keith was still holding his hand. He teetered for a moment before losing balance and crashing into Keith’s chest. The Human staggered under the unexpected weight, catching himself by flailing out with his free arm and grabbing a nearby railing a split tick before they both tumbled to the platform floor.

Stunned violet eyes met his own blue, before flashing in fiery anger. Lance just had a tick to brace himself before he was pushed backwards, landing hard on his bottom on the floor with a thud. His aching hand tingled as the blood rushed back into it as he shook it out. Looking up, he glared at Keith who still managed to stay on his feet.

“I believe you,” Keith said fiercely. “But you haven’t explained any of that to me. None of it. I don’t know what a Breeder actually is or does. I don’t know what happens to the people who are ‘removed,’” he said, holding up air quotes. “And I don’t know what you mean by ‘crowd control movements.’”

He paused, breathing hard in an obvious effort to rein his temper back in. Closing his eyes, Keith took a deep breath in through his nose and out through his mouth. “Patience yields focus,” he muttered under his breath like a mantra.

“Alright,” he said in a calmer tone. “Let’s start with the first part. What the holy hell is that-” he pointed upwards where they left the Breeder behind, “thing? And don’t just say something like ‘he’s a Breeder,’” he added quickly before Lance could speak. “I know he’s a Breeder. What _I_ want to know is what a Breeder _is._ ”

Lance climbed to his feet, rubbing his bottom when it twinged. Frell, he’d landed hard. “This isn’t the best place to talk about that sort of thing,” he said carefully. When Keith looked on the verge of losing his temper again, Lance quickly added, “Let’s get a skimmer to help the Oceanborne and talk there, where no one can hear us and report to the wrong person.”

That seemed to soothe the red paladin’s ruffled feathers. Keith rolled his shoulders and huffed, crossing his arms. “Fine,” he said, shaking his head. “But once we’re alone, I want straight answers. No beating around the bush. Just cut to the chase. Got it?”

Lance blinked hesitantly. “I… think so,” he said. “I’m guessing what those turns of phrase mean, so I could be wrong-”

Keith groaned, letting his head loll back in annoyance. “It means don’t talk around the issue. Give me straight answers. If I ask a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ question, I want a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answer. No filler shit.”

“Ah. Alright. I can do that,” Lance said nodding. “But if you want those answers, then let’s take care of the important stuff first. Like getting a skimmer out onto the ocean.”

Keith nodded and waited for Lance to lead the way. After a tick or two of looking around to orient himself, Lance started off down one path. Then stopped. He would get to the harbor this way, no problem. But he wouldn’t get there very fast. It would be faster if he just…

Oh. This could be fun. Besides, he wanted payback for his sore ass. With a blank face, he turned around and faced Keith.

“What? Did you get lost already?” Keith teased.

Lance stepped forward and Keith began to back up so he could let Lance pass. But there was no way Lance was going to let that happen. When Keith stepped to the side, Lance mirrored him. Thick black eyebrows furrowed in a faint frown as Keith stepped to the other side of the path and Lance mirrored him again. Blotches of color appeared on the red paladin’s cheeks and he opened his mouth to speak.

Now how could Lance possibly turn down such a blatant opportunity?

With a sly grin, Lance leaned forward, placed on hand on Keith’s shoulder-

“What-?” Keith stuttered, the blotchy red slowly spreading to his ears. “H-hey! What are you-”

-leaned forward so he could feel Keith’s breath on his lips-

Incoherent sounds sputtered from Keith’s lips, his face burning a red debatably brighter than the Red Lion’s paint.

-smirked, and teleported.

They reappeared on the platform overlooking the piers at the ocean’s surface below. Waves crashed against Yggdrasil’s roots, sending frigid spray soaring through the air onto the tree bark. The wind whipped their cloths, blowing Lance’s hood off and tugging Keith’s hair into a mess of tangles.

Keith staggered back, slipping on the damp wood and metal of the platform and flailing out with his arms to catch his balance. His cheeks were vibrant red and his violet eyes were wide and stunned. Like this, Keith was adorable and so much like a young Myr trying to sit properly on a rock above the ocean for the first time. Lance couldn’t help himself.

He threw back his head and laughed. He laughed so hard he could barely breathe. Tears pricked his eyes, spilling over his cheeks and his sides began to cramp. Just when he finally thought he’d gotten back a semblance of control, he glanced at Keith and lost it again.

The red paladin was flustered and visibly shaking with humiliation and anger. His white teeth were gritted in fury but his eyes were still wide from the shock. There was also the faintest hint of a sickly pallor working its way into Keith’s cheeks, forcing away the dark blush. Keith looked like a sopping wet pygmy puma and not enjoying it in the least. It was hilarious.

Oh it hurt. It hurt so wonderfully bad.

“What the fuck was that?” Keith cried, shaking himself.

He lurched forward to stomp across the platform and threaten Lance, but it just looked too much like a pygmy puma trying to recover its lost dignity that it sent Lance tumbling into another fit of laughter. Oh dear ‘Verse, he couldn’t breathe. It was too funny.

His knees gave out and he fell to the platform still laughing. His sides hurt so bad. He needed to control himself. He needed to breathe.

“Where the hell are we?” Keith demanded, looming over Lance. “Where are- You know what, fuck this. I’ll find out myself.”

Stalking off to the railed edge of the platform, Keith stared out to the surf and piers below. He was probably doing his best not to look put out, but it wasn’t very successful. He was too adorable when ruffled like that. But Keith no longer being immediately visible gave Lance the much needed the reprieve to recover his self-control.

His cackling eased off to breathless hiccups as he rolled over and tried to push himself up to all fours. His limbs wobbled weakly and it took a few false starts before he finally managed to make it to his feet. He tilted slightly before catching himself and walking over to join Keith’s side.

He cleared his throat to hide another breathless chuckle. “Sorry,” he said, not sorry in the least. “That was just…” He shook his head. “You are too funny.”

Violet eyes glared at him and he met them with a proud smile. When the glare just hardened, he scoffed.

“Oh, come on,” he groaned. “You have to admit you enjoyed my teasing just a bit.” Keith flinched, blinking quickly. “You did.” Lance tapped Keith’s nose before pushing himself off the railing and walking towards the steps leading down to the skimmer hangars below them. “Come on, Keithy boy,” he teased, beckoning the red paladin to follow with a backwards wave. “Let’s go grab us a skimmer and have some much needed private time.”

He would bet every GAC piece he had that the blush was back in the red paladin’s cheeks. Lance was swiftly becoming addicted to that helplessly stunned expression. It really was adorable. It did things to Lance’s heart that he wasn’t ready to handle.

With a sigh, blue eyes scanned the platforms below for the hangar warden, narrowing against the light from the daystar. It really was much brighter down here without the comforting shade of the leaves and branches to hold back the intense light. At least it would soon be sunset. Not that they would see the sunset past those storm clouds.

* * *

Forcing his mind to focus on the issue at hand and not the fucking tease that was Lance, Keith followed the Druid down the steps to a platform near the water where a lone woman with long dark hair tied up in a messy bun stood.

“Ho Warden!” Lance shouted to her loudly enough be heard over the crashing waves.

The Vuana woman looked up with startlingly green eyes and nodded in response. She wore loose fitting clothes with her arms and most of her legs and feet bare to the elements. Compared to the Vuana up in Yggdrasil’s arbor -Treebound, Lance had called them- who wore lightweight clothing that was typically loose and lined with fur or feathers against the brisk cool of the upper air, this woman wore much less clothing.

A sash of dark blue covered her chest and wrapped up around her neck, latching in front between her breasts in a series of complicated knots. Her skirt was a lighter shade of blue that faded to white at the bottom. What looked like leggings hugged her legs down to just above her knees leaving the rest of her legs bare.

How was she not bothered by the constant wind? At least it was a bit warmer down hear at the surface. More humid too. Keith was already feeling the damp heat work its way into his clothes. It was amazing what a thousand feet of height could change temperaturewise.

But her clothes weren’t the only thing that set her apart. She sported numerous tattoos on her arms and legs with one on her chest in deep blue-green ink. Normally, this wouldn’t make Keith bat an eye. But some of those tattoos were similar to Lance’s arm tattoo, and that one glowed.

“I assume you’re here for the Oceanborne,” the woman called back to them, watching Lance and Keith finish descending the stairs to join her. “They’re still some distance away.”

“I know,” Lance said, moving to her side and turning his gaze to the water. “I saw them from further up. What do you think of the storm?” he asked in a low tone.

The warden frowned, crossing her arms over her chest and sighing. “It’s larger than most storms I’ve seen,” she said. “And early.”

Lance nodded and Keith felt slightly out of place.

“I assume you’ve spread the word to those above,” the Druid said.

The woman nodded. “The wardens we could spare are in the process of alerting the shield operators and Earthbound,” she said. “Since the Oceanborne are too far away, we decided to wait until they were closer before turning our attention to them.”

“Unless something happens,” Lance murmured.

“Unless something happens,” the woman agreed.

Keith was definitely missing something here.

For a minute, no one spoke, the roar of the waves filling the silence.

“Do you have a skimmer my charge and I could borrow?” Lance asked, tilting his head to the woman. “We could help the other wardens move the Earthbound willing to come to Yggdrasil.”

The woman shook her head. “I don’t,” she said simply.

Lance frowned but nodded reluctantly. Then he stiffened, his eyes locking on something in the water closer to the platform they stood on than the still distant Oceanborne. Curious, Keith moved closer and scanned the waves for anything unusual. He was about to ask what had drawn the Druid’s attention when a high pitched shriek scoured his ears like fingernails on a chalkboard.

Clapping his hands over his ears, Keith winced in pain. His ears would be ringing for a good while after this. What even was that? When the horrendous sound didn’t come again, Keith hesitantly removed his hands from his ears. Squinting through the pain, he stared down at the waves and his jaw dropped.

A mermaid with pale blue skin with teal markings and a dark blue tail broke through the surf. She tilted her head and made a softer screeching sound that was almost like a chirp before dipping back below the water. When she surfaced again, she was close enough to the pier to reach up and haul herself onto the wood and metal surface.

She shook her head and Keith realized what he’s originally assumed to be hair was actually two, long appendages dangling from the back of her head. After a moment to situate herself, she lifted her head and her pupilless, sea-green eyes locked on Keith, Lance, and the woman next to them. She opened her mouth and Keith winced in preparation for yet another loud screech.

But what came out was low and melodic, beckoning. He barely caught himself from leaning too far over the edge of the platform he stood on and falling into the ocean. He blinked and shook his head, deliberately ignoring the amused chuckle from Lance.

The mermaid made another sound that warbled and gurgled like a river before tilting her head and falling silent. Keith briefly wondered what she was waiting for when two answering warbles came from right next to him. One was a deeper, richer baritone and the other was a lilting alto. Stunned, Keith whirled and stared at Lance and the Vuana woman. They both had their hands curled against their lips as they blew sound through them, changing the tones as they moved their hands and fingers.

The mermaid called back a long, descending tone and flopped her tail, splashing the water. The Vuana woman chirped twice before lowering her hands and striding over to the stairs leading to the pier the mermaid sat on.

“Move slowly,” Lance murmured, his blue eyes catching Keith’s violet. “Speak slowly, move slowly, and stay behind us.”

Keith felt his mouth grow dry in understanding. “We’re going down there?” he asked, feeling a smile grow on his face. “We’re going to meet her?”

Lance blinked, then smiled. “We are,” he said. "The Myr are picky about who they talk to.” He began moving to the stairs with Keith keeping pace next to him. “They prefer to only speak to the Oceanborne, but they don’t mind the Waterbound. They tolerate the Treebound and aren’t very fond of the Earthbound.”

“Will she like me?” Keith asked.

Blue eyes flickered to Keith briefly before darting back to the mermaid. “Maybe,” he said.

Keith felt his heart leap in his chest with excitement. He was going to meet a real life mermaid. Holy shit. If he ever got back to Earth, his followers on his little weblog would never believe this. He was so excited, he missed the odd expression on Lance’s face, or the shadow falling over the Druid’s mood.


	38. Myr

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Keith discovers the Myr aren't safe, gets some much needed information at the possible expense of his sanity, and finally gets something he didn't realize he wanted or needed until now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** Ok, so Final Exams start next week so I'll probably drop back to updating every other day or so, with a few exceptions here and there, during that time. Thus why I didn't update last night. I hope this chapter leaves you feeling better. ^_^ I decided to be nice... This time.
> 
> Also, as of this chapter, I'm finishing NaNoWriMo 2017 with 22 chapters and 80,235 words (only counting chapters 16-38 which were written during November). I won! WHOOO!

Keith dutifully stood behind Lance and the Vuana woman -what was her name? Did she ever say?- wanting _very_ badly to get closer. The mermaid… Myr, he corrected himself -they would always be mermaids in his mind-  was perched on the pier in such a way that her long, sinuous tail looped around herself much like how a snake coiled itself up. It reminded Keith of coiled rope, if rope was long, scaly, and half fish half human…ish.

She -was the Myr a she? He wasn’t actually sure about that one either- cocked her head to the side, observing them with her huge sea-green eyes as they approached. When she raised a four-fingered hand and waved to them, Keith noticed webbing between each finger and thumb. Above her pupilless eyes was a pair of antennae tipped with frills the same shade of red as the red fins behind her cheeks where human ears would be.

She had no visible nose though there were two narrow slits where a human nose would be. Three frilled gills were visible on either side of her neck but they weren’t moving much. The Myr was probably breathing through her mouth or… nostrils while on land.

A thick band of green-brown seaweed was wrapped around what Keith thought was the Myr’s hips above a strand of oddly shaped seashells. She toyed with the shells with one webbed hand while a clear film slipped over her eyes and vanished just as quickly. Was that… Did she blink?

“Plaxum,” the Vuana woman said, returning the Myr’s wave. “Warm waters and safe tides to you.”

“Warden Maaike,” Plaxum said, her long tail twitching in its coils. “Warm waters and safe tides. We apologize for the delay.”

Woah. Her voice warbled too. Not a surprise really considering the calls she’d made earlier, but still… Keith had begun to think the Myr only communicated in screeches and warbling. They could speak words?

Maaike bowed her head respectfully before kneeling to be on the same level as Plaxum. When Lance knelt next to her, Keith quickly followed suit.

“We understand the circumstances,” Maaike said calmly, glancing pointedly at the storm on the horizon.

Plaxum frowned, her eyes narrowing despite her lack of eyebrows. She warbled something that included clicks and a hiss, shaking her head. “Our southern brethren are guiding the Oceanborne through the sea,” she said in a language Keith could understand. “The waters have become,” her head twitched unnaturally, “unsafe.”

“Unsafe?” Lance asked, leaning forward, his eyes full of concern.

Pupilless sea-green eyes shifted to him and the clear film flashed over them once more. “Druid,” she said.

She whistled shrilly, her tail twitching when she ended in a sharp click. Keith winced at the high pitch but whatever those sounds meant, Lance seemed to agree with them. The Druid nodded and smiled, curled his hands in front of his mouth, and made a warbling trill that had the Myr clicking in mermaidish laughter.

At least, Keith hoped it was laughter.

“You come late,” Plaxum purred, reached out with one of her webbed hands to brush Lance’s cheeks. “You bring treats?”

Lance blinked, his mouth forming a small ‘o’ before paling. “Not this time, beautiful,” he said sadly.

The Myr chirped in disappointment before her eerie eyes locked on Keith. Her face slackened in surprise letting out a hiss as she pulled herself closer to him. Instinctively, Keith flinched back when Plaxum was suddenly very much in his personal space, her face mere inches from his own.

She chirped. “What is wrong with your ears?” she asked curiously.

Really?

“There’s nothing wrong with my ears,” Keith said in mild annoyance. “They can hear you perfectly fine.”

A cool, webbed finger brushed his cheek, right by his eye and Keith held perfectly still. The clammy finger brushed his other cheek in the same place before the Myr drew back, clearly flummoxed by something.

“No scales,” she gurgled deep in her throat.

Oh. “I’m not-”

“He’s not full Vuana,” Lance said quickly, drawing the Myr’s odd gaze back to him. “He’s visiting us for the equinox festival. Keith? This is Plaxum, the messenger of the Freya Myr. Beautiful Plaxum,” -the Myr warbled cheerfully- “this is Keith, my charge.”

Sea-green eyes sparkled playfully as Plaxum smiled and let out a chirrup that quickly ended in a series of clicks. She shook her head, the thick appendages hanging from her head flopping about and splashing them with water droplets.

“We like,” she chirped with a flirtatious wink.

Something passed over Lance’s face, darkening his friendly expression a shade before vanishing. “So do I,” he said simply.

Plaxum flipped her tail just so and ended up nuzzling Lance’s cheek with her antennae, making contact with the Druid’s blue scales. Lance twitched then chuckled trailing his fingers along the Myr’s frilled gills. Plaxum made a chittering sound much like little Chulatt’s squeaky laughter.

For some reason, seeing the easy familiarity between Lance and Plaxum _bothered_ Keith. The suddenness of the feeling actually caught the red paladin off guard. Without realizing it, the high Keith had been riding since he first saw the Myr appear plummeted leaving an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. The hell?

“Plaxum,” Maaike said, cutting through Keith’s dark thoughts and dragging him back to the here and now. “Where is Florona? She usually comes with you on these visits.”

The Myr leaned away from Lance, coiling her long tail underneath her and arching her back before settling down on the thickest part of her tail. “She is guiding the Oceanborne through safe currents,” she replied. Her eyes flickered oddly in the sunlight. “We worry about her.”

Maaike nodded. “Because the waters are unsafe,” she murmured.

All amusement slipped away from Plaxum’s face as she leaned towards the warden and brushed her antennae against the Vuana’s green scales. Maaike gasped but made no sudden move to pull away. However, her face darkened and her eyes sparked.

“Explain,” the warden said curtly.

Plaxum withdrew, her eerie eyes sad and vulnerable. “We do not know how,” she mumbled, making a warbling trill. “They simply vanish into the ice and deep sea alone and do not return.”

“What do you mean?” Keith asked. He didn’t realize he’d spoken out loud until he noticed all three startled faces staring at him. He flushed and tried to recover. “What do you mean vanish? Who’s vanishing? You mean like the Breeders?”

The Myr blinked and cocked her head in an unnatural way, her tail twitching. Lance nudged him and yes, Keith was aware he messed up, thank you. No need to rub it in.

“Ah.” Plaxum grinned, and _holy shit_ those were sharp teeth. “Breeders. Tasty.”

Oh. Oh! _Holy fuck!_

“Breeders tend to stay away from the ocean, Keith,” Maaike said, a sly smile tugging her lips. “The few… brave ones have a terrible habit of disappearing.”

“Unfortunate really,” Lance finished with a heavy sigh.

“Most unfortunate,” Maaike said, nodding. “

“Terribly unfortunate,” Lance added.

“Crunchy,” Plaxum added, tapping her too wide mouth with a webbed finger. “And wriggly as a fresh fish.” She trilled and flipped her tail with glee. “Oooh, we do love fish.”

Holy. Fuck.

“Breeders steal younglings,” Plaxum cooed, leaning forward and suddenly Keith did _not_ want a closer look at her. “So we steal Breeders. Younglings like fresh meat.”

_Holy. Fuck._

“Easy, Plaxum,” Lance said, a sly grin on his face. “You’re scaring him.” Hooded blue eyes gazed at the Myr with an emotion that made Keth’s pulse skyrocket. And it wasn’t even aimed at him.

Plaxum chirruped. “We saw him in Freya,” she murmured, her sparkling gaze holding Keith’s captive. “We find him… fascinating.”

Uh oh.

Keith gulped. “Fascinating?” No, his voice did _not_ just break. He wasn’t in middle school anymore, thank you very much.

“That was you then,” Lance said, his tone carefully neutral. “I did wonder.”

“He burns in our eyes,” the Myr purred, sea-green orbs staring straight into Keith’s violet as if looking deeper than what was visible on the surface. “Like the nasty fire that fell into our sea.”

Nasty fire? What… Oh. Shit. The Red Lion. Stunned, Keith broke the Myr’s gaze and glanced at Lance. He was disturbed to see a kind of dangerous glint in those stormy blue eyes that he only ever saw last night when the Breeder passed by their home.

Plaxum suddenly withdrew, her eyes shadowed with suspicion and curiosity. Sea-green eyes turned to Lance, holding his gaze just as intently as she held Keith’s. The Druid tilted his chin down, his eyes cold and hard. The Myr leaned close and brushed her antennae against Lance’s scales. Then Lance blushed a deep red and Plaxum arched her back unnaturally far, cackling madly.

Violet eyes flashed between Lance and Plaxum, completely flummoxed by what was going on. What was Keith missing?

“Plaxum,” Maaike said, placing a dark hand on the Myr’s pale blue shoulder. Gently, she pulled Plaxum away from the Druid and closer to her. “Are you deliberately ignoring me?”

What was he missing? What the-

She kissed her. Holy shit. She _kissed_ her?!

Keith slipped from his knees to his butt and stared at the Myr and the Vuana who were currently very much… um, occupied. Maaike’s lips were pressed gently to Plaxum’s gills and the Myr was making a soft warbling sound. Plaxum tilted her head back, two eyelids slipping over her eyes, as she wrapped her sinuous tail around Maaike’s kneeling form.

How was this okay? Didn’t the mermaid just say she… ate… people? And now the… people she eats are… is… making out? Kind of? Is that… How does that…

“What the fuck?” he whispered.

* * *

Keith wasn’t handling this very well. Lance should have known this would happen. Too many things happening in a short span of time tended to make the red paladin overwhelmed. Besides, Lance didn’t need to stay. He had what he needed and staying any longer would be an intrusion on Maaike and Plaxum’s moment.

Rocking up to his feet, Lance stood and stepped over to Keith who was still flopped on his ass staring at the couple with an expression that was a mixture of shock and horror. Rolling his eyes with a sigh, Lance scooped a hand under Keith’s armpit and hauled the red paladin up.

“Come on,” Lance muttered, moving them both towards the stairs. “Leave them to their moment.”

Keith’s first couple stumbling steps backwards were awkward before he finally caught his balance and managed to get himself turned around to face the direction Lance was pulling him. “What the fuck?” he said under his breath. “What the fuck? What the fuck? What the _fuck_ , Lance?”

“I have no idea what’s bothering you, but whatever it is, get over it quickly,” Lance said, pulling the paladin up the steps to the upper platform. “We have work to do.”

“But…” Keith turned his head back to where Lance knew Maaike and Plaxum were reacquainting themselves. “But they’re _kissing?!”_

Lance paused, not sure how to respond to that statement. He glanced at the red paladin before turning around completely. “They haven’t seen each other in a long time,” he said. Heaving a sigh, he tugged Keith away from the edge of the platform so Plaxum and Maaike were no longer in view. “There are certain needs that were best met…” a splash, “underwater.”

 _“Underwater!?”_ Keith cried. “Lance! Lance, what the actual fuck?”

“What is your problem, Keith?” Lance demanded, turning around and facing the red paladin in mounting frustration.

Keith reeled back. “What is my…?” He blinked and shook his head, staring at Lance as if _Lance_ was the strange one here. “That mermaid-”

“Myr.”

“That _Myr_ just admitted to _eating_ people and then she just-” He quickly lowered his voice, flushing, “-she just flopped into the _ocean_ to have _sex_ with a _people!_ _Person!_ Maaike! _Whatever!_ That’s just-” He waved his arms around as he tried to find the right words. “That’s just wrong! You don’t tell people you _eat_ them and then have _sex_ with one of those people!”

Oh. That’s what Keith was freaking out about? Huh. Lance tilted his head in thought. “I… never thought about it like that before,” he said.

Keith flailed dramatically, his face pale and shocked. “How could you _not?”_ he shouted.

“Because it’s normal?” Lance asked. Honestly, things like this never bothered him. Why would it? He was Oceanborne.

“That’s _normal?”_

Keith looked like his mind was literally blowing itself to pieces trying to wrap itself around the new information. Or, maybe this was just the final chink in the glacier for the paladin. Lance quickly thought over everything the Human had been exposed to over the last few quintants and flushed awkwardly. Maybe it was a bit much. Still…

Fighting the odd feeling settling in his belly, Lance said, “For most Oceanborne, yes. Almost all of us have some Myr in our ancestry. It’s one of the reasons why we get along with the Myr so well-”

Keith huffed in disbelief. “Understatement of the century.”

“- _and_ why we can sense the Breeders when they’re nearby,” Lance continued, mildly annoyed by the interruption. Ah. Now he had Keith’s full attention. “The Myr despise the Breeders because they don’t feel…” he shuddered, “natural.”

“What do you mean?” Keith asked. “I mean, I know what you mean. When that Breeder showed up last night, I kept feeling like someone or some _thing_ was watching me. Something that wanted me dead.”

Lance hesitated. “You don’t have Vuana in you,” he said softly. At least, he was mostly sure Keith didn’t. “You shouldn’t be able to sense them.”

The red paladin shrugged. “Well I did.”

“Yes, I can see that,” Lance said wryly. “What I mean is I’ve never met anyone from another race, the Galra included, who could sense the Breeders before.”

Dark eyebrows furrowed over bright, violet eyes. “Maybe it’s a Human thing?” he suggested.

“Maybe,” Lance admitted, nodding slowly. “Do you have anything like Breeders on your world?”

Keith shook his head, then paused. “Not in so many words, no,” he said carefully. “There are people who prefer one group of people over others, but…” He shook his head. “Nothing like these douchebags. But,” he added after a tick, “we’re pretty good at detecting when we’re being watched or spied on or if something isn’t right about something. We call it a ‘gut feeling’ or ‘instinct’…” He paused, eyes widening. “The Red Lion is instinct.”

“That would explain it, I guess,” Lance said, considering the implications of the red paladin’s words. “Do you think the other paladins could sense the Breeders?”

“I… I guess so,” Keith said. “If it’s a Human thing and not a Red Lion thing, anyway.”

“Interesting,” Lance murmured. He gazed out over the ocean and the approaching storm. “I’m sorry I yelled at you earlier,” he said reluctantly. “I wasn’t… I was sensing the Breeder and since I was already upset, everything got tangled up and…”

“Yeah. Same here.”

A faint smile flickered over Lance’s face before fading just as quickly. “I told you the Breeders are responsible for making sure the Vuana maintain a strong genetic connection to our Altean ancestors,” he began. “I didn’t tell you how.”

“You said people vanish,” Keith said softly and Lance nodded.

“They do,” he whispered. “They can be standing right next to you one moment, then just walk away and never be seen again.” Lance took a deep breath. “That’s why we Vuana are close knit despite how different and spread out we are. We have to be. We never know when someone could disappear.”

He swallowed and hung his head. “Taavi was almost taken,” he said. “He was Oceanborne but was too young to understand why the Breeder scared him. He doesn’t remember much beyond the mask all Druids wear while among the Galra and falling into the water. Keith,” he lifted his gaze to those striking violet eyes and said in a calm, serious tone, “if you ever find yourself in a situation where a Breeder is nearby and I’m not there, run to the ocean and jump in. The Myr will protect you. If the Breeder tries to touch the sea, the Myr will rip them apart.”

Keith said nothing, but his eyes darkened in grim understanding.

“At first, no one was sure how the Breeders were pulling off their kidnapping in plain sight,” Lance said. “We had our suspicions, but nothing conclusive. The Breeders are a secretive group. They rarely contact other Druids outside of their filthy branch. And since the only Druids who were allowed to serve in the Galra Empire are those who have an affinity for black quintessence, or those who can,” he cleared his throat awkwardly, “can, er, mimic black quintessence, you can understand why getting a spy into their ranks has been… difficult.”

He waited, watching as Keith began to fully grasp what he meant. When he did, the red paladin’s eyes grew wide. “You’re a spy?”

“One of many, actually,” Lance said. “Our numbers have been dwindling and until recently, we weren’t sure how. I’ve never been very good with black quintessence. It’s not… mine, I guess.” He glanced back to where the Blue and Red Lions were hiding on the mainland. “Although, I’m beginning to see why that is,” he added in a low tone.

“That’s one of the reasons why I was struggling to pass my Apprentice Trials to become a Master Druid,” he said louder. “That and… I think we finally figured out how the Breeders are turning our own spies against us, and why they feel so… wrong.” He met Keith’s gaze. “They’re quintessence is corrupted.”

Keith frowned. “Corrupted? What, you mean like a computer file can be corrupted?”

“Exactly,” Lance said, nodding. “I didn’t realize I had been corrupted until Blue merged her quintessence with mine on the Balmera and my shield changed color. I had  _forgotten_ that I’m supposed to wield blue quintessence, not black. And then when High Master Haggar touched my quintessence with hers, it felt disgusting.”

He winced as the mere memory of the thick, inky substance that was the High Master’s quintessence pushed its way into his veins. “I’ve never felt so filthy or violated before,” he murmured, staring down at the scars on his wrists. He missed Chulatt’s comforting presence on his shoulder. “It felt like my blood was coagulating in my veins, cutting me off from my own quintessence and forcing open an artery deep in my… sense of self that should never be opened.” He clenched his hands into fists.

“Whatever that was, I’m almost certain that that’s what the Breeders use on our people,” he continued. “It must confuse the mind, convince the victims to leave willingly, or something. But it doesn’t make any sense!” he vented, shaking in frustration. “Quintessence is in our blood. It’s why Druids in the Empire cover most of our bodies. If we’re cut, our quintessence leaks out faster and can be more easily influenced. How could the Breeders cut someone without them noticing? It’s… They’re _children!_ How could they-”

Suddenly, he had a faceful of fabric. Arms wrapped around his back, pressing him closer to the firm body in front of him. He tensed, uncertain of what to make of this new… development. But when hands began rubbing up and down his back along his spine and digging into the dips between his shoulder blades, he relaxed in the embrace. He closed his eyes and hesitantly looped his arms around Keith’s body and clutched handfuls of Keith’s shirt in fists.

“We’ll stop it,” he heard Keith murmur close to his ear. “We’ll find a way. If I have to kill every last Breeder I find to do it, I will.” His arms tightened around Lance’s body. “I swear.” He huffed. “Even Red agrees. Hell, if the rest of the team gets here, we’ll have even more firepower.”

Lance tried to laugh, but it came out more like a muffled wet sob. He was so glad his face was buried in leather that smelled like Keith. He was probably blushing like an idiot.

“They probably won’t make it before the storm hits,” he mumbled just loud enough for Keith to hear.

He felt the red paladin shrug. “There’s always the eye of the storm.”

“The what?” Lance asked, tilting his head far enough back to look at Keith in confusion.

Keith nodded. “The center of the storm. If that is a hurricane,” he said, nodding to the oncoming storm, “then there should be an eye at its center. The eye is typically calm, relatively speaking.”

“Oh, yes.” Lance nibbled his lip. “You call that the eye?”

“Yeah.” Violet sparkled. “Why? What do you call it?”

A teasing grin worked its way onto Lance’s face. “The center. Like a sane person.”

Keith gave him a flat stare and Lance couldn’t fight back the laughter bubbling up his throat. Oh, he was probably going to regret this. But he wanted to do it so badly. It was too tempting and Lance was a weak person. He should probably give Keith a little bit of a warning, though.

“Um.”

Oh yes, very intelligent, Lance. Way to go. Try again.

“I, uh.”

Better. Keep going. Finish a sentence this time. He cleared his throat.

“I’m going to do something,” he said, swallowing heavily. “If you want me to stop, just, uh, push me away or something. But just…” He sighed nervously. “Just don’t… hate me.”

Keith frowned warily, but didn’t seem too unnerved. “Okay.”

Lance swallowed and took a deep breath through his nose, blowing it out through his mouth. Then he leaned close, his eyes watching violet, looking for any sign of rejection, and pressed his lips to Keith’s.


	39. Surtr

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Keith is victorious, Lance is thoroughly distracted, and Vuana has yet another hidden danger at play.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** For anyone who's curious, I've included what real life events I'm drawing from for inspiration regarding Vuana's disasters at the end of this chapter in an A/N. If I tell y'all now, I'd be spoiling the chapter for you. ^_~
> 
> Side note: I'm writing this while riding a high like WOAH! UGA, my alma mater, just destroyed Auburn28-7 and became the SEC Champions! UGA!!! Go Dawgs! Holy crap I'm flailing all over the place. I literally cannot believe it. Oh my gosh! *flails* WHAAAAA!!! *dies*

He’d been expecting Lance to give him more bad news or screw up his brain worse than scrambled eggs. Well, the Druid definitely did the latter, just not the way Keith had been expecting him to. He should know by now to always expect the unexpected from the Druid. But this… Not that he was complaining by any means. But this…

This was… woah.

Fuck, he was blushing. And Lance had stopped kissing him now and had leaned back far enough to have a clear view of his apple red face. Damn it. Not okay. Fix the problem. How?

Blue eyes dimmed. “Was that too-mmph?!”

Lance stiffened in surprise when Keith pressed their lips together again. Not what he meant to do but _totally_ what he meant to do. When Lance sighed and leaned into his chest, Keith knew he’d made the right decision.

It was way too hard to think right now.

Chapped lips moved with his own and his nerves danced. He was kissing Lance. He was _kissing_ Lance, and damn it, he _liked_ it. He leaned closer and sighed when Lance tilted his head for better access. Something warm and wet brushed hesitantly against his lips and Keith felt like singing the Druid’s praises.

Instead, he opened his mouth and thrust his tongue deep into Lance’s before the Druid could do it first. The startled gasp was everything he could have asked for and so much more. Blue eyes slipped shut and Keith smirked. Victory.

* * *

Keith could kiss and Lance was not ready for this. But frell he was so glad he took the chance. He had anticipated having to guide and coax the red paladin into this, but Keith had swooped in and taken charge. Fingers worked their way into his hood, pushing it off his head and tangling in his hair.

Hesitantly, just to test Keith’s reaction, Lance tried to lean back. The red paladin’s fingers tightened their grip on his hair and held him in place. Pinpricks of pain dotted the back of his head pulling out a soft whimper that was swallowed by the kiss. Oh frell, that felt good. Why did it feel good? Frakking quiznak, who cared. Don’t stop.

The hand resting against his back pressed between his shoulder blades, holding him close. Lance hummed, tilting his head slightly to the side and moving his lips with Keith’s as best he could. That tongue though… His legs began trembling but he would be quiznaked if he gave in first. There were still a few things he could… do… oh…

A whine slipped out before he could stop it when fingers began digging into the soft muscle between his shoulder blades and his spine. It felt weird but oh so good. He arched into Keith’s chest simultaneously trying to get away from and press back into the strange and comforting sensations.

His own hands eased out of their fists so he was no longer gripping the red paladin’s shirt so much as digging his fingernails into Keith’s back. There would definitely be at least eight red crescent marks on Keith’s back after this. Not that Lance cared. Actually, he wanted to make more, to leave more markings. Maybe even… see them.

Frell, Lance was so quiznaked. And the best part about it was he _wanted_ to be quiznaked. By Keith. Until he couldn’t do anything but moan and cling and-

_BANG!_

The force that struck him was as hard and unforgiving as a stone wall and loud enough to leaving him dizzy and disoriented. He distantly heard Keith cry out too over the deafening ringing in his ears. He shook his head to clear it of the ringing but only succeeded in making his head fuzzy and throw off his balance.

His legs gave way beneath him and only Keith’s strong grip kept him from slumping to the ground. Keith was saying something but it was too muffled to make out. Slowly, gingerly, the red paladin eased him down so that Lance sat on the wood and metal platform blinking and rocking like an Oceanborne ship on a rough sea.

What… was that?

Hands grabbed his arms just short of his shoulders and shook him. He blinked, moving his head side to side, and gasping as the ringing refused to abate and the fuzziness made it hard to focus. He started to fall back but caught himself by bracing his hands on the platform beneath him. Keith’s hands moved from his arms to his face, cupping his cheeks and lifting his head so he and Keith were eye to eye.

The red paladin’s voice moved, his lips flapping as they formed words, but without his hearing the translator embedded in his ear couldn’t make out what Keith was saying. He blinked and focused every piece of befuddled concentration he could get a hold of on Keith’s face and the sounds coming out of his mouth.

“…al …at …La…”

Harder. _Harder_.

“…ou hear me?” Violet eyes were wide and terrified, but also determined and focused. “Lance! Can you hear me?”

Keith’s voice was still muffled and Lance’s ears were still ringing, but he was beginning to make out the red paladin’s words little by little. Lance nodded, careful not to let himself fall back into another bout of dizziness. He lifted one hand and waved generally at his ear.

“I can barely hear you,” he shouted.

He saw Keith wince at the volume but nod understandingly. Violet eyes flickered around the area searching for whatever had caused that horrendously loud noise. It sounded like an explosion and that compressive force felt like a blast wave. But what had exploded? Where? How? Was everyone alright?

Lance closed his eyes, folded his legs up to his chest, and rested his forehead against his knees. When he felt Keith’s hands leave his face, he lifted his head long enough to see the red paladin stand before dropping his head back down. Thankfully, Keith kept one hand on Lance’s head, brushing his hair gently.

A burst of frigid cold froze the deepest part of his mind when the Blue Lion roared. The cold surged through his veins, merging with his quintessence and flooding his senses. It washed over his sense of self, centering him enough to ease his dizziness. It didn’t soothe the ringing in his ears, but he could deal with that.

“What the fucking hell was that?” he heard Keith growl from above him.

“I don’t know,” he replied, taking a deep breath and lifting his head. He drew comfort from the cool, moist sea breeze ruffling his hair and plucking at his clothes. It was familiar. It didn’t hurt.

Neither did Keith’s hand. Which was still on his head. Brushing his hair. Frell. He was… What was that Human word again? Ah yes. He was fucked.

“It felt like a shockwave of some kind,” Lance said, deliberately distracting himself.

“Yeah. Like a bomb went off or a sonic boom or something,” Keith said, looking around. “But, like, nothing is on fire or anything. I don’t see anything wrong.”

“Maybe it wa-”

Footsteps thudded up the stairs behind him and Lance turned when he sat to see Maaike rushing towards them. Her green eyes were wide in her terrified face. Her entire body was drenched and she looked wrecked. The fabric that had been wrapped around her chest was hanging limp and undone over her body revealing her breasts.

Frell. She must’ve been ticks from having intercourse when the shockwave hit. Poor girl.

“What the quiznaking ‘Verse was that?” she demanded, clasping a hand to her head.

Lance winced sympathetically. “We don’t know,” he said. “Do you?”

“No,” Maaike groaned, staggering and leaning against the railing. “It was so loud.”

Oh. She’d been underwater. Frell.

“Is Plaxum alright?” Lance asked in concern.

Maaike flushed and tossed her mass of tangled, wet hair over her shoulder. “Mad and shrieking,” she said. “And not in the mood anymore.” She cursed under her breath.

“U-um, your um.” Lance looked up to see Keith’s face burning red and his eyes studiously looking anywhere _but_ at Maaike. “Your shirt- scarf thing is… uh… It’s… I can see your breasts,” he said so quickly Lance needed a moment for his brain to catch up.

Lance glanced back at Maaike and yes, he could see her breasts. He frowned in confusion. “What does that have to do with anything?” he asked Keith.

If possible, the red paladin’s blue darkened. Lance wasn’t sure how he felt about this.

“Oh, so it is.” Maaike straightened and began to rewrap the sopping wet sash over her chest. After a moment, she gave up and just let it drape loosely over his shoulders. “I’ll frakking murder whoever was responsible for this,” she grumbled.

Lance chuckled. He agreed. Wholeheartedly.

Cold blasted him again and Lance blinked. Whoops. Blue didn’t sound happy. In fact, she sounded furious, and scared. What could possibly scare her? She was a huge robot lion that was literally a semi-living weapon. What could possibly-

_:Fire! Smoke! Ash! HEAT! Falling rock! Destruction! Too fast! RED! Pridemate!:_

The words that weren’t words crashed into his head, stunning him just as efficiently as the shockwave had without the irritating ear ringing. Flashes of a towering column of what looked like smoke rising through the atmosphere faster than the speed of sound filled his vision. Huge boulders arced through the sky, smashing to the ground and tumbling down a mountainside. Clouds of thick, roiling, gray blew down the mountainside, overtaking the tumbling boulders and melting centuries thick ice on contact. Slurries of dirty meltwater, stones, and ash thundered through already full riverbeds down towards a small Vuanan Earthbound settlement.

A volcano. _The_ volcano. Surtr had erupted.

Staggering to his feet, Lance ran on unsteady feet across the platform. He had to see it for himself to believe it. He could hardly believe the _thought_ of it happening. The sheer odds of it happening were tremendously low. The volcano hadn’t erupted in hundreds of deca-phoebs. What happ…ened…

He rounded the curve of Yggdrasil’s trunk and skidded to a stop, staring at the massive plume of thick, dark ash billowing into the sky from the now dark and foreboding mountain. Gone was the graceful peak and its blanket of thick ice and snow. The top of the mountain had literally been blown off by the force of the eruption

How… No. Not important. _Why?!_ Why now of all times? Were they far enough away from the volcano to avoid danger when the main eruption takes place?

Oh frell.

The storm.

He took a deep breath and turned around to the open ocean. The dark clouds of the approaching storm loomed ever nearer. A volcanic eruption on one side and an enormous, out of season storm on the other. The shields… Would they hold?

* * *

The shockwave had punched his ears painfully and left them ringing, but he hadn’t had as bad of a reaction as Lance or apparently Maaike had. Although, given their natural sensitivity to bright light, it would make sense if their hearing was slightly more acute too. At least Keith was able to recover more quickly and try to assess the situation.

There was no visible sign of fire or smoke or blast or anything that he could see that could cause a shockwave like that. The only logical explanation was that it was a sonic boom. The source could be miles away and may not be visible to the naked eye but the shockwave could still be felt and heard. But when Lance and then Maaike hadn’t known what the source could be, it had set every instinct on fire.

Then suddenly his nerves _were_ on fire. The Red Lion roared in shock. Too close. She was too close. She couldn’t get away fast enough. Blue had to- _Blue had to-_

Suddenly, Lance rolled inelegantly to his feet catching Keith off guard. “Lance?” he said.

The Druid didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. The disbelief in those too wide blue eyes shouted what couldn’t be said yet. Without a word, Lance dashed off down the platform to who knows where leaving Keith to chase after him. Again.

“Lance!” he shouted over to roaring sea.

They ran along the platform circling the gigantic tree trunk until Keith could see the mainland. Lance stopped so suddenly, Keith almost slammed into his back. He opened his mouth to demand to know what was going on when he followed Lance’s frightened gaze towards the mountains.

Ash.

Shit.

“What the hell is wrong with this fucked up world?” Keith breathed.

Lance didn’t respond, but he whirled around to stare out at the ocean and Keith paled. Holy shit. A volcano and a hurricane. Damn. This was the shit show to end all shit shows.

Tearing his eyes away from the climbing plume of ash, the red paladin stared dumbstruck at the slopes of the mountains between the farmland and the erupting volcano. Already, he could see one of the riverbeds draining glacial meltwater from the mountaintops to the sea was beginning to fill with mud and debris from a lahar. Tiny specks that had to be livestock -some of those were people! Holy shit!- were running away from the growing lahar to the docks.

Keith knew the typical procedures for evacuations on Earth. Very rarely were animals allowed to accompany their owners. He doubted that would be different here. But if those animals died, then what would happen to the Vuana? And the fields full of crops, too. What would happen to the Vuana if they lost their crops? It was still spring here, planting season. If they couldn’t raise enough food to feed everyone during winter, then Keith could only imagine the number of people who were going to die.

Dear god, what a mess.

Red.

Keith reached out to the Red Lion, feeling the calmer flame of her presence burning in the back of his mind. She was still seething about being caught by surprise, but she wasn’t injured. Well, she wasn’t injured more than she already had been to begin with. The Blue Lion had apparently reacted fast enough to get Red out of the initial blast zone and to a relatively safe distance away from the eruption when it began.

He breathed a sigh of relief. At least one thing was going well. For once.

Worry later. Plan now.

“Lance,” he said, turning to the Druid next to him. “Lance!” he said again, reaching out and taking Lance’s shaking hand, tugging him back to the here and now. “You said Yggdrasil has shields, right?”

Lance gulped, but nodded. His blue eyes were wide and watery, drifting helplessly back at the erupting volcano.

“Can it take a direct hit from a hurricane and the weight of the ash?” Keith pressed.

Lance hesitated, blinking and looking up at Yggdrasil arboreal settlement. “I hope so,” he whispered.

“What is going- Oh ‘Verse.”

Keith turned to Maaike, quickly looking away when he saw her scarf shirt was still mostly undone. Now was not the time for that.

“What can we do to make sure?” Keith said, shaking Lance to be sure he had the Druid’s full attention. “What’s its power source? Is it fully charged? How much does the shield cover? Will it protect Freya too or just Frey?”

“Uh, i-it runs of a battleship class Balmera crystal,” Lance said, wide eyed but beginning to process Keith’s questions. “It should be fully charged. We haven’t used the shield since last fall’s storms. It’s had all winter to regain any lost power.”

“Those things are rechargeable?” Keith said. That’s not what he’d been led to believe. Or maybe he’d misinterpreted the princess’s explanation.

Lance nodded. “It takes time, but the Druids who stay on Vuana are charged with keeping Yggdrasil and the Vuana people under their charge safe and protected. They spend most of the winter phoebs checking the crystal to be sure it can handle the next deca-phoeb’s storms.”

“Okay, good to know,” Keith muttered thoughtfully. Without meaning to, his eyes also skipped to the volcano. This was not going to be easy. There was just too much going on here. What he would give for the Castle of Lions to be here right now. He wasn’t sure what Allura and the team could do about this situation, but the extra hands were never missed during evacuations.

Besides, he was worried about Red.

“I’ll tell Plaxum to send word to the Oceanborne,” Maaike said softly, visibly forcing back her fear in favor or duty. “They probably already know. That ash plume is hard to miss.”

“Do you need any help?” Keith asked.

Maaike shook her head. “I’m the warden of these ports,” she said. “This is my job. Take your Druid and warn the Treebound to prepare for more visitors than they probably anticipated.”

“I can do that,” Lance murmured. “I’ll get the red and green Druids started on growing new temporary homes. Anyone who doesn’t want to stay up in Frey can stay in the empty homes in Freya.”

“I doubt the Waterbound will mind,” Maaike agreed, nodding. She briskly secured her sash so it covered her breasts completely and sighed. “Let the blue and yellow Druids know too. I may need the blue Druids’ help keeping the water calm so the Oceanborne and Earthbound can unload safely.”

“The yellow Druids would help keep the Earthbound at ease,” Lance said. “Good idea.”

“Warm waters and safe tides,” Maaike said, touching her fingers to her forehead, her mouth, and her heart before bowing. Lance repeated the gesture and Maaike was gone.

“Hold on, Keith.”

Keith frowned at Lance. “To wha-”

Emptiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N:** I am basing the events on Vuana loosely on the real life events of Mount Pinatubo from June of 1991. Mount Pinatubo's initial eruption was spectacular and powerful, but silent to the viewers relatively close to the volcano. The blast was so great, that it literally bent the sound waves up and out giving the illusion of a silent eruption. That initial eruption, minus the eerie silence, is what the blast in this chapter is based on.
> 
> Mount Pinatubo's climactic eruption, took place a few days after the initial eruption at the same time a typhoon struck the island. So yes, the events I'm detailing in this fic are based on fact and it is hella scary. I can't even imagine. That eruption hasn't happened in this fic yet though. But don't worry, it will. Soon.


	40. Convince

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Keith has to convince Lance, Lance convinces Keith, and Chulatt is a chittering wreck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** Sorry I didn't update yesterday. I found a new, old book and read the whole dang thing in 2 days. Side note: today was the last day of classes for this semester but my final exam isn't until 8am next Wednesday. The last day of Finals Week. ...whoo.... So updates will continue to be every 2 or so days until then, give or take.

Frey was bursting with life and not in the good way. Some of the Vuana were running here and there and others were obviously still recovering from the same stunned state Lance had suffered from when the eruption’s shockwave hit him and Keith. A handful of other Vuana dressed in a fashion similar to Lance, hoods and all, called out instructions and directed response efforts. They must be the Druids Lance and Maaike had mentioned.

What happened to those distinctive, drab, brown cloak things Lance had been wearing since they first met? Did Druids only wear those things while in space or something?

“This way,” Lance commanded.

Without waiting to see if Keith was following him, Lance darted from the platform they reappeared on and ran down one of the many winding paths. Keith prided himself on his speed and agility, but damn Lance could move. The Druid dodged around people, ducked under stray branches, and swerved around sharp curves in the path. Idly, Keith wondered if Lance could move like that in other circumstances.

And now he was blushing. Fuck.

“Come on!” Lance shouted over his shoulder.

Keith rolled his eyes and waited until he rounded a particularly sharp turn before picking up his pace. This was insane. He didn’t remember seeing this many Vuana around earlier that day. Where did they all come from?

Before he could think too deeply on that question, Keith recognized the path he and Lance were running down. They were going to Lance’s home. Sure enough, after a quick climb up a couple stairways, Keith caught sight of Lance’s little pod home nestled on a couple of large, twisted branches.

Lance didn’t bother calling out a greeting. He ran straight through the walls of the pod -oh, the particle barriers must be down- and fell to his knees, cradling Alve and Taavi in a tight embrace. When Keith arrived, he saw Darja holding a crying Ran in her arms and looking between him and Lance with wide black eyes. Her face was paler than he remembered.

“Lance! Lance, what was that?” she demanded breathlessly. “What happened?”

“Surtr erupted,” Lance declared in curt, clipped tones. A blur of light blue scampered across the floor and up Alve’s body to settled on Lance’s shoulder, curling up and shaking against the Druid’s neck. Chulatt.

“What?” Darja cried in disbelief. “But it hasn’t done that in thousands of-”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s doing it now,” Lance said sharply. “I’ll probably be summoned to help the Wardens bring the Earthbound willing to evacuate the mainland to Yggdrasil safely.”

“What about the Oceanborne?” Darja said, patting Alve’s hair as the crying child reached out to her. “They’re supposed to be here by now.”

“They got delayed by the storm,” Keith said.

He crouched to catch his breath and rest a hand on Alve’s shoulder. The little girl immediately locked her full attention on him, reaching out to him with grabby hands. After a moment of confusion, Keith held out his arms and was promptly knocked on his ass when a bullet of brown eyes and red-brown hair streaked straight into his chest, clinging to him like a barnacle. It didn’t take long before his shoulder was damp from Alve’s tears.

“Does it really hurt that bad?” Keith asked, meeting Lance’s deep blue curiously.

“Are your ears _not_ ringing?” Darja demanded with wide, incredulous eyes.

Keith shook his head. “I mean, they did at first, when the shock wave hit,” he explained. “But not anymore.”

Darja blinked and turned her shocked expression to Lance who grimaced but nodded. “His people aren’t as sensitive to sounds as we are,” he said. “Or light.”

Keith nodded. “I’ll go with you to the docks,” he said to Lance. “I can help with anything that doesn’t involve quintessence.”

For some reason, Lance furrowed his brows in a frown. But before he could speak, another voice broke through the frantic sounds filling the Frey settlement.

“Any Druids who can teleport, get to the arrival pads now!” a Druid wearing a hooded shirt of deep crimson shouted over the din from a nearby platform nexus. “Blue and yellow Druids, to the pads as well. Those of you who can teleport will be acting as transport unless told otherwise. The rest of you will be aiding the Earthbound and Oceanborne unload. Red and green Druids, start weaving extra pods if you can. We’re going to need every open space we can get.”

 “Darja,” Lance said, easing Taavi’s clinging arms off of him. “Raise the barrier and keep everyone inside. Keith, stay with them.”

“What?” Keith gasped in indignation, glaring at Lance.

Darja tugged Taavi’s screaming form to her, lifting him in her arms, and running for the control panel to raise the protective barrier walls of the pod home. Meanwhile, Lance stood and shook himself, running a shaking hand through his hair as he made his way to the pod’s only door. Annoyed, Keith worked himself free of Alve’s strong grip and hurried after him. No way was he being left behind.

“Wait!” he called, following the Druid out the door. Stepping outside onto the deck, Keith reached out and grabbed Lance’s arm. “Wait. You can’t just leave me behind here,” he hissed. “I can help.”

“You _are_ helping,” Lance insisted. “I need you to stay here and keep watch. You and Taavi are the only ones who can sense the Breeders coming.”

“What do the Breeders have to do with any of this?” Keith demanded in confusion.

Blue eyes darkened. “You don’t really think the Breeders aren’t going to take advantage of this pandemonium, do you?” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’d be dumbstruck if no one went missing once everything calms back down.”

Keith paled, his violet eyes growing wide. “But there’s a fucking volcano erupting out there,” he said fiercely, pointing towards the edge of the arboreal settlement. “ _And_ a hurricane. Where the _hell_ are they going to go?”

“Where do they ever go?” Lance snapped. “Where we can’t find them. Where we can’t _get_ to them. Once the shield is up, if we put it up now and don’t wait till the last tick to save power, it will only hold back the elements. It doesn’t inhibit teleportation.”

That made sense. But still, Keith was fuming.

Deep breath, Keith. Patience yields focus. Shake it off.

Taking a deep breath, Keith forced himself to calm down. “And what about the Li-” He caught himself off, glancing quickly back at Lance’s family and lowering his voice. “What about the Lions? We can’t leave them out there in that mess.”

Reluctantly, Lance pursed his lips and shook his head in thought. “I’ll think of something,” he muttered.

“No. _We_ need to think of something,” Keith said insistently. “I can only pilot the Red Lion and she’s still messed up from the crash landing.”

“I can fly Blue here with her,” Lance offered hesitantly.

“Yeah, and where are we going to hide her?” Keith argued. “Or Red, for that matter. They’re giant robot Lions. We can’t just bring them here without them being noticed.”

“Then what do you suggest we do?” Lance hissed in mounting frustration.

Keith wavered, looking around as adrenaline pumped through his veins. “What about Freya?” he said suddenly.

“What about it?” Lance said, frowning.

“Can we hide the Lions underwater?” Keith said. “In or around Freya? This shield of yours does cover Freya too, right?”

“Yes, of course it does. But that doesn’t matter. The Myr will notice,” Lance said, shaking his head. “Plaxum made it very clear they do _not_ like how the Red Lion feels.”

“Well, can they deal with it for a couple days? Or quintants or _whatever?”_ Keith argued. “Look, it wouldn’t be permanent. You and I both know that. Is there any way we can convince the Myr of that?”

Lance visibly wavered, nibbling his lip in indecision, so Keith pressed his advantage. “We can’t leave them out there in a volcano and a hurricane,” he said, squeezing the Druid’s arm gently to emphasize his point. “Besides, we need our bayards.”

Blue eyes dropped and Lance began shaking his head slowly. Desperately, Keith grabbed both of Lance’s arms and shook him gently. “We _need_ them,” he insisted. “We need something to fight the Breeders with.”

“I can use quintessence and you have your dagger,” Lance argued.

Keith opened his mouth to speak when soft squeaking startled him silent. He blinked and dropped his violet gaze to the little blue mouse still curled on Lance’s shoulder. Chulatt was squeaking and patting the Druid’s face insistently. Keith really hoped the little mouse had the good sense to argue for his side of things.

Lance winced and shut his eyes as if to keep Chulatt’s squeaks at bay. Then a tiny paw batted the blue scale curving like a crescent moon at the corner of the Druid’s eye and Lance stiffened. A faint blush colored his tan cheeks. Eventually, Lance sighed, the tension in his shoulders draining away. He reluctantly opened his eyes and nodded.

“Fine,” he muttered. “I’ll try to slip away from teleport duty to help the Oceanborne,” he said slowly. “We’ll use the confusion to slip onto a skimmer headed for the mainland and go from there.”

Keith straightened with a sigh of relief. He could feel Red’s discomfort in his mind. The Red Lion was not happy with the Blue Lion’s chosen hiding place on the ice near the sea. They were far enough away from the eruption and Earthbound settlement to be safe from notice, which was a relief. But Red was not looking forward to staying under water any longer than she had to.

“I’ll talk to the Myr and see what we can do,” Lance said. Keith started to nod when stormy blue eyes locked on his. “You owe me.”

He scoffed. “For what?”

“For making sure the Myr don’t eat you,” Lance chirped. “And if you really think I’m going to let the likes of Surtr interrupt us again, you’re gravely mistaken.”

Interrupt…

Keith was just beginning to put two and two together when Lance was kissing him again and all the hard work put into forming coherent strings of thought flew out the proverbial window. He barely had the chance to kiss back before Lance was backing away again, leaving him stunned, breathless, and peeved.

“You owe me,” Lance repeated.

“That’s what you think,” Keith said.

The red paladin didn’t owe Lance anything, except a good, long, hard make out session in which he would make damn sure to show how much _Lance_ owed _him._ The tease. This could be fun.

* * *

This was not fun. Not for Keith anyway. The red paladin was a good swimmer, but he clearly wasn’t used to water being this cold. Lance felt a stab of sympathy for Keith. It didn’t occur to him to think that cold water would bother Keith so much. But then, cold and water were the opposite of heat and fire, so it made sense.

Oh well. The Myr had been ‘kind’ enough to help speed them along, so that helped. Well, ‘kind’ wasn’t really the right word. More like ‘tolerant.’ They tolerated Lance and Keith’s presence mostly because Lance was Oceanborne and because they were insatiably curious about Keith. But they were not at all impressed with having the Red Lion near their home.

Plaxum had made the disapproval of her, her people, and her queen very… erm, vocal. Lance’s ears weren’t too happy about it. But Surtr was a threat to everyone and the Myr knew that. Surprisingly enough, it had been Keith mentioning the fact that the Breeders would give anything to capture the Red and Blue Lions that finally made the Myr agree to tolerate their presence.

Why Lance hadn’t thought of that first, was beyond him. He was losing his touch. Blue sent ripples of amusement through his mind as the Druid piloted her through the depths of Uryd to the Myr home on the ocean floor beneath the Freya settlement. Blue adjusted her grip on her red pridemate, jostling Keith standing in Blue’s cockpit next to Lance’s pilot seat.

Lance settled the Blue Lion on huge tree root near the ocean floor, disturbing the sand below. The Lions’ particle barriers would keep them safe and the roots would keep them mostly hidden from any curious eyes in Freya. The Myr would avoid the Red Lion. Fire doesn’t work well with those whose nature is water, after all. And no one would tell the Breeders.

Chulatt chirped and Lance patted the tuft of blue fur between its ears fondly as he stood from his seat. Keith stepped back to give him room and waited, patting the bulge at his waist wear his deactivated bayard now rested.

“Remember the plan?” Lance asked absently, hooking his own bayard to his belt so it wasn't hidden under his long shirt. Keith glared at him in exasperation and yeah, Lance sort of deserved that. He sighed. “Just… if you feel a Breeder anywhere near you-”

“I’ll fucking kill it.”

Uh… Okay. That would work. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Alright then,” he said, placing a hand on the red paladin’s shoulder. “Hold on.”

A gloved hand covered his own and it took an extra tick for him to focus before teleporting. Although Freya had been mostly abandoned just a quintant ago, there were Vuana everywhere. Lance cursed. There must be more evacuees than he originally thought.

Combined with the Oceanborne’s arrival, Frey must be stripped for room. The red and green Druids probably needed more time to weave proper, acceptable homes for everyone. Lance bit his lip as he looked around. He really hoped the extra pull of power on their crystal wouldn’t jeopardize the shield.

After checking to be sure Keith was beside him, Lance hurried to another teleportation pad and waited his turn. When the group before him vanished, he and Keith stepped onto the platform. Lance counted five slow ticks before teleporting Keith and himself up as well.

If Freya had been busy, the docks and piers on the surface were crawling with people, belongings, and even a few animals.

“I’ll be with the Oceanborne handling teleportation,” Lance said, turning to Keith. “I’ll meet you on the main landing pad in Frey when they call the end of my shift.” He waited until Keith nodded. “Warm waters and sa-mmph?!”

The kiss was quick, but not too quick that Lance wasn’t briefly overwhelmed by a tongue deep in his mouth.

“We make a hell of a team,” Keith said, and ran off to help the Earthbound unload their belongings and carry them to nearby designated teleportation platforms.

That… wow…

“Druid!”

Lance started, ignoring the painfully shrill squeal from Chulatt, and spun around to locate the speaker. A female Druid in yellow stood a span or so behind him gasping for breath and leaning over, bracing her hands on her bent knees. She was probably still standing by sheer force of will.

“Yes?” Lance asked. She was so pale. “Are you alright?” he said in concern.

“Are you my relief?” she gasped, meeting his eyes with weary hope.

Well, not officially, no, but- “Yes,” Lance said, immediately striding forward to hook an arm around her waist and pull her arm over her shoulders. “I’ll take you back up to Frey and let the blues take care of you.”

She heaved a relieved sigh and slumped against Lance, thoroughly exhausted. She must have overspent herself using her quintessence for teleportation. Lance was beginning to feel the ache as well. That quick dip in the icy waters of Uryd hadn’t helped any -and Chulatt was still wailing in his mind about that- but at least Blue’s cockpit had been warm and dry enough for most of the dampness to fade.

His hair and clothes were still a bit damp though. Keith had dried off remarkably fast. It really wasn’t fair. Paladin of the Red Lion he may be, but Keith had no right to just dry off so fast. Stupid red quintessence.

Lance waited until the platform was open before hauling the yellow Druid in his charge to the center. He counted five ticks and teleported, wobbling on arrival. Frell. He needed to last longer than this.

The same red Druid who had passed by his home earlier was waiting for them. Brown eyes widened in a Treebound-tan face under the red hood. Lance hurried off the platform anxious to get his temporary charge aid before taking up his new role as this platform's transporter.

“Nadia!” the red Druid cried, hurrying through the crowd of confused Vuana to the edge of the platform.

_:Surprise. Friend?:_

The yellow Druid lifted her head and smiled, reaching out to her Chosen. “Galo,” she called breathlessly.

Galo scooped the slender yellow Druid from Lance’s grasp, lifting her into his arms. “Are you okay?” he asked softly, his eyes the shade of Yggdrasil’s bark gleaming from under his hood.

Nadia nodded weakly in his arms and relaxed against his shoulder, her gray eyes slipping shut. The red Druid met Lance’s gaze grimly.

“Is she alright?” he asked seriously.

_:Worry.:_

Lance nodded, patting Chulatt's soft ears. “She should be,” he said. “But don’t leave her alone.”

_:Fear.:_

Galo's brown eyes widened before a shadow of understanding fell over them. With a curt nod, the red Druid left with Nadia still in his arms.

Lance rolled his shoulders, earning him a soft chirp from Chulatt. This had been a long day, but it wasn’t over yet. Lance took a deep breath and stepped back onto the platform. He would be the designated transport here until he was relieved. He figured at his current power level, he could manage a good ten or so teleports from this distance with passengers and cargo.

_:Doubt.:_

…

He managed seven before he couldn’t see straight and had to be relieved to Chulatt's vocal distress.


	41. Distract

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Keith reports in, gets some bad news, and thoroughly distracts Lance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** I have work tomorrow so I'm posting this and crashing. Don't expect an update tomorrow or Friday. I'll be working on my thesis when I'm not at work. But there should be an update on Saturday. Just FYI.

The green garbed Druid who transported him to the landing pad in the Frey settlement wobbled precariously. Keith instinctively stretched out a hand to prevent the elderly Druid from toppling forward.

“We need a relief over here!” he called.

“No, no. I can manage one more trip,” the old Vuana said, straightening his shoulders with visible effort.

“I’d rather you rest,” a female blue Druid said, stepping up to the old man and helping him limp off the platform. “Most of the people who are going to stay up here are already here. The rest are going to stay in Freya.” She glanced at Keith, the yellow scales by her eyes flashing in the dimming light through the leaves. Her green eyes hesitated on his cheeks, noticing his lack of scales. “Where were you assigned?” she asked.

“I’ve been relieved,” Keith replied promptly. “Most of the Earthbound are in Freya last I checked.”

“What of the Oceanborne?” the woman asked, her tone brisk but not rude. “Did they make port successfully?”

“Last I checked, yes,” Keith reported, glancing around the immediate area for Lance.

The woman noticed his distraction and frowned. “Are you looking for someone?” she asked.

Keith nodded absently. “Have you seen Lance?” At her confused expression, Keith clarified. “He’s about my height, blue eyes, blue scales, um, blue Druid? I think?” he added hesitantly.

“Ah, yes,” the woman said. “One tick.”

She eased the weary green Druid down on a nearby platform filled with obviously exhausted Druids lying down or sitting and leaning on one another. Several Druids wearing varying shades of blue, red, green, and yellow moved between the prone Vuana, their hands glowing softly with quintessence the same color as their clothes. Other Vuana without the distinctive, color coded hoods the Druids wore also moved between the exhausted Druids checking their vitals.

It made Keith pause. Why would the tired Vuana need to have their vitals checked if they were just tired? Unless this was more serious than the red paladin first thought. What had Lance told him about quintessence? Something about it being tied to blood and blood loss draining their quintessence faster.

Could that concept work both ways? If someone suffered blood loss, then they would typically become tired, among other symptoms. Assuming Druids experienced the same basic symptoms of blood loss as Humans, then if they suffered blood loss, they would presumably grow tired and lose their quintessence as well. By that comparison, would draining their quintessence reserves cause the same symptoms as blood loss? Granted, they weren't bleeding blood, but they were bleeding their quintessence.

Keith paled, looking around him at the weary Druids with a new sense of awful understanding. He’d seen what happened when Lance drained his quintessence reserves. Lance would sleep for hours, sometimes days to replenish himself. When Lance stopped the Robeast’s attack with his shield, he’d fainted. How much quintessence had Lance drained himself of to protect Keith and the team that time?

And why hadn’t he said anything about it since?

“Rest here,” the woman said, pressing the back of her hand against the elderly green Druid’s forehead and cheek, avoiding his eye scales as she did so. “When you feel well enough to walk, we’ll let you join the next group to the residence pods.”

Reluctantly, the old man sighed, his entire demeanor drooping as he obediently laid back at the woman’s gentle encouragement. “Very well.”

Satisfied, the woman stood and turned to Keith. However, Keith spoke before she had the chance.

“Will he be alright?” he asked softly.

She hesitated, nudging him subtly away from the platform full of quintessence drained Druids. “Fair enough,” she said once they were out of the old man’s earshot. “He is old, but stubborn. He should pull through with some bed rest.”

“And the others?” Keith asked, almost afraid of the answer.

“The young ones should,” she answered, crossing her arms and studying the Druidic patients with a critical green eye. “But I worry about the elder ones. We were ready for the Oceanborne, not for the Earthbound as well.” She sighed. “Surtr’s eruption is ill-timed.” She shot a burning glare at the ash cloud visible through the breaks in the leaves and branches. “With luck, the storm should blow most of the ash away from us.”

Keith grimaced. “Do you have any healing pods or anything?” he asked.

“We do, yes,” she said with a nod. “But most of them are occupied at the moment. Most of the Earthbound were far enough away from Surtr to avoid harm. But not all.”

…oh.  “Pyroclastic flows?” Keith whispered. Oh god, he could just imagine.

“What?” the woman said, turning to him in confusion.

“Pyroclastic flows,” Keith said. “That’s what my p- That’s what we call them,” he corrected himself. “They’re the hot clouds of ash, debris, and superheated gas that move down the sides of the volcano.” He shuddered at the mental images flashing through his head. “Anyone caught in them is… They die. Painfully.”

The woman’s green eyes softened at the corners, though her face still held hints of confusion. “I’m unfamiliar with the term you use, but,” she sighed and a weary sadness settled over her form, “many have… not made it. Their bodies will be frozen until such time as they can be returned to their families for the traditional Earthbound burial.”

He really did not want to know. “How many?” he asked.

The Druid woman met his eyes and, for a moment, she looked years older. “Thirty-seven,” she said simply. “As of last count.”

There could be more. Keith felt sick. It was so hard to remember how many more lives were being lost under Emperor Zarkon’s iron fist in space when he was on Vuana helping a struggling people attempt to cope with natural disasters. It made him feel so small. Voltron could defend the universe against Zarkon, but it couldn’t stop the fury of one planet’s hellish weather and geologic activity.

Not everything could be stopped. Not everyone could be saved. Keith knew that, but seeing it thrust in front of his face was not… It wasn’t something he was ready to fully grasp.

“You were looking for someone?” the woman asked, all business. “What did he look like again?”

Keith straightened. “Oh, um, yeah. His name’s Lance. He’s a blue Druid with blue eyes and blue scales. He said he would wait for me up here when he was finished with his shift. But I don’t see him.”

He looked around him at the thinning crowds. The transfer of people must be mostly done. He hoped it was. Some of the Vuana were sitting down while others were carrying personal belongings up the paths in single file. A few blue hoods wove in and out of sight, but Keith just knew none of them were Lance.

“What was his duty?” the Druid woman asked.

“Last I checked, he was helping teleport people,” Keith said. He noticed the moment the woman’s green eyes narrowed and frowned. “What? Do you know where he is?”

The woman pressed her lips together in a thin line and deliberately looked back at the platform full of exhausted Druids. “No,” she said grimly. “But I can guess.”

Keith turned back to the tired Druids and felt his stomach drop. Oh shit.

“Wait here,” the woman said. “I’ll go look for him. If I find him, I’ll call you over.”

It went against Keith every instinct to just stand there and wait. He felt useless. Even Shiro’s ‘Patience yields focus’ mantra wasn’t helping. If Lance was unconscious, he fucking swore he would shake the crazy Druid awake and drag his sorry ass back to his little home.

The woman knelt and spoke to a blue Druid who was busy leaning over an older Druid in red. The Druid shook their head but pointed to someone else and called something out. Keith followed the pointing finger to another Druid in blue who glanced back at the caller, then to Keith.

It was Lance.

Releasing a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, Keith relaxed and offered Lance a relieved smile. Lance smiled back, but it was tired and uneasy. After murmuring something to a non-Druid Vuana nearby, Lance picked his way through the resting Druids towards Keith.

“Sorry I wasn’t here,” Lance said when he was close enough. The little blue mouse Chulatt waved from its usual spot on Lance’s shoulder. Lance rubbed the back of his neck, rolling it until it popped. “They were short on hands and needed help,” he continued.

No problem. Keith would make him pay for it later.

“How are they?” Keith asked instead, nodding to the weary people while viciously fighting against his growing blush.

“Better,” Lance said. “I think most of them will be fine with some rest.”

He nudged Keith with his shoulder and began walking toward the path that would take them home. Chulatt tittered softly and Keith suddenly wanted to know what the mouse was saying. Stupid Disney princess powers.

“That woman said she wasn’t sure the old ones would make it,” Keith said, dismissing his mild annoyance.

Lance sighed. “Most will,” he said. “They’re old enough to know their limits. But she’s right. We’ll probably lose at least one.”

“Because the pods are occupied,” Keith finished.

Blue eyes flickered sharply to him before sliding away. “Yes,” he murmured.

Chulatt made no noise, but it did pat Lance’s scale briefly causing him to twitch. What was with those things? Keith really wanted to know.

He studied the sag in Lance’s back and sighed. Placing a reassuring hand on the Druid’s shoulder, he squeezed. Lance flashed him a tired smile and ended up stumbling from not watching where he was going. Chulatt squealed something that sounded like a mix of shock and laughter. Face burning, Lance quickly locked his gaze forward and stepped carefully ignoring the mouse’s continued stream of tittering that Keith highly suspected was laughter.

Amused, Keith looked around Frey to orient himself. There were many more pod homes woven into branches and the trunk of Yggdrasil now as the sun was setting behind the approaching storm clouds than there had been this morning. A flash of red caught his attention and he turned his head curiously to look. A red Druid, their hands haloed in red quintessence was molding red hot metal in between strands of fresh, green wood manipulated by a taller Druid in green.

Keith paused to watch the process in fascination. How was the wood not burning from the hot metal? Another Druid poked her head up from where she’d been hidden by the massive branch and the green Druid, hovering her blue haloed hands over the metal, cooling it, before the wood could catch fire. But wouldn't the sudden temperature change shock the metal and make it warp or break?

Apparently not. What kind of metal was that? Keith could just imagine the things Pidge and Hunk -mostly Pidge- would do to it to find its weakness. Hell, even Keith was a little curious.

“Keith?”

Startled, the red paladin immediately turned to Lance who was staring at him with tired, inquiring blue eyes. Another pair of blue eyes, these ones lighter in color and set in a furry face, also watched him. Was that mouse smirking at him?

It took Keith a moment to remember his hand was still on Lance’s shoulder. He must have jerked Lance to a stop without realizing it when he stopped to watch the other Druids work. He flushed and shrugged.

“Nothing,” he said quickly. “Sorry.”

That mouse was definitely snickering at him.

Lance glanced between Keith and the working Druids before huffing a quiet laugh. “How did you think we built this place?” he teased. “Wish it, and there it was?”

“Can we do that for Zarkon?” Keith snarked. “Only in his case, can we wish him away and no-”

A hand slapped over his mouth before he could finish, silencing him. He tensed, glaring at Lance. Slowly, just because he could, he licked the Druid’s palm. Chulatt trilled, waving its tiny arms but Lance just rolled his eyes and started to remove his hand.

Nope. Not happening.

Keith clamped his own hand over Lance’s, pinning those slender, tan fingers in place, and licked again. Lance made a small, startled sound, his eyes focusing on Keith’s imprisoning hand in shock. The Druid planted his free hand on Keith’s shoulder and pushed against him while pulling his pinned hand back. Keith just held on tighter, nipping the skin within reach of his teeth.

Chulatt threw its head back in squeaky mouse laughter and Keith was beginning to think he might like the little rodent. An immense blush flooded poor Lance’s cheeks as he pulled harder. Keith chuckled and released the Druid’s hand, flipping his hand around to catch Lance’s wrist seconds before Lance overbalanced backwards. Without waiting for a response, Keith yanked Lance towards him-

“What the-!”

-ducked, and braced himself just in time for the Druid’s slender body to crash into his shoulder. He heard a high pitched squealed followed by tiny claws scampering over his scalp onto his other shoulder. Sneaky little thing. Before Lance had the chance to recover, Keith stood, ignoring the startled gasp when his shoulder dug into the Druid’s stomach, and began walking again. He knew his way to Lance’s home from here, anyway.

Chulatt continued to make its squeaky laughing sounds the whole way back. Punctuated, of course, by the Druid’s vocal displeasure.

“Put me down!” Lance commanded breathlessly.

His hands scrabbled over Keith’s clothes, trying to get a descent grip to push himself up. Keith just tightened his arm around the back of Lance’s thighs until the boy was forced to far limp to breathe.

“You know,” he said with a wry grin, “the more you struggle, the bigger the chance of me dropping you.”

“Frak you!”

Keith laughed. “There it is,” he said easily. “I’ve noticed you say that a lot when I have you pinned down.”

A fist thumped against his back, doing nothing to break his good mood. One of Lance legs lifted at the knee and kicked him. Too bad Lance had long legs. Any shorter, and Keith would’ve been coughing for breath from a sharp kick to the stomach. But his hip bone, though slightly sore now, was quite capable of handling the abuse.

“Put. Me. Down,” Lance commanded between gasps.

“Not until we’re home,” Keith said.

Chulatt made a chittering noise and whatever Lance was going to say melted into a very obviously embarrassed whine. Damn, he wanted to know what the mouse was saying.

Turning off from the main path, Keith walked right up to the pod home. The particle barriers were up, clouded a foggy gray. This must be what it looked like when that Breeder passed by that night. It couldn’t see in, but Keith and Lance could see out. Huh. It really was like a two-way mirror. Cool.

Rolling his shoulders, he adjusted Lance to a better position, smirking when the small bounce earned him a started gasp. He stepped onto the deck and looked for a doorknob or doorbell or something to knock on.

“Keith?” Lance whined, patting his back with his palms. “Please?”

“Nope.”

Oh well. He knocked directly on the particle barrier, just in case Darja and the kids hadn’t seen them coming in the first place, and waited. The particle barrier blurred, the foggy gray fading to a clear transparent. Alve was the first one to appear at the door followed closely by Ran. Then Darja waved them aside and opened the door.

Her eyes traveled first to the legs, then the butt -it was a nice butt, if Keith said so himself- then Keith’s face. “Is he heavy?” she asked in a mild voice.

“By the ‘Verse,” Lance groaned, falling completely limp.

“Not really,” Keith said, feeling very proud right now. On his shoulder, Chulatt tittered happily.

“Woah,” Alve said, poking Lance’s foot. It twitched so she poked it again.

“I thought you couldn’t get carried like that when you got older,” Ran said.

Keith heard the faint groan from behind him and deliberately began tapping his fingers in a mindless rhythm against the back of Lance’s thighs. “You can,” he said to Ran, as he stepped inside the little home. “You just have to find someone strong enough to do it.”

“What happened out there?” Darja asked, scooping Ran up and resting him on her hip. She let Alve continue to poke Lance’s twitching, vulnerable feet.

Keith felt his smile fall, quickly bringing it back before the kids could notice. “It was a bit hectic there for a bit,” he admitted. “I’m fine, but this crazy Druid damn near knocked himself out working as a transporter, though.” He shrugged, snorting when he heard Lance’s breath hitch at the movement.

A thin, black eyebrow arched and Keith hesitated. Why was Darja annoyed? What had he… Damn. He’d cursed in front of the kids. Well shit, okay. He cleared his throat.

“Uh, I, um… You wouldn’t mind if Lance took a nap, would you?” he asked.

“He needs a nap?” Alve asked.

This time, Lance’s whine was anything but quiet. Keith smirked and dropped his gaze to where Taavi sat on the bed in the middle of the pod’s floor.

“He does,” he said. “Isn’t that right, Lance?”

“…shut up…” he heard the Druid mumble.

A smug smile on his face, Keith leaned forward until Lance’s feet touched the floor. He stayed there until the Druid had eased himself up to a standing position. Blue eyes glared at him from a very red face. Keith just grinned, feeling Chualtt shuffle and chirp from his shoulder. If possible, the Druid’s blush darkened.

“You…”

Lance vibrated, obviously caught between fuming, dying of embarrassment, or just punting it and going to bed. After a good couple seconds, Lance wilted and shuffled off to the bed, falling inelegantly to the mattress next to Taavi and pulling the blankets over his head.

“Oh yeah, that’s mature,” Keith teased.

The blanket covered lump that was Lance curled tighter and Chulatt made another laughing sound. Man, what Keith would give to know what the mouse was saying.

Honestly, this was a lot easier to deal with than the news from the teleport platforms. Better yet, it distracted Lance. Maybe the idiot would sleep now and not worry about the fatality count. For a while, at least.


	42. Protect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lance is teased, Keith reaps the unexpected results, Yggdrasil is protected, and Taavi... may be protected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** This is a longer chapter as an apology for missing an update. I have my Final Exam at 8am this Wednesday and have to have my thesis proposal finished by Thursday so I'm writing this instead. ehe... I'm a master procrastinator.

Lance woke up when something soft and firm shifted against his back. Slowly, he opened his eyes. A soft, dim blueish light filled the space in front of him. Other than that, there was nothing. It took him a bit longer than he’d prefer to realize he was still completely under his blanket.

Confused, he lifted his head, and was greeted by a sharp twinge in his neck. With a wince, he eased his head back down to the mattress. Frell. He must have been too tired to grab a pillow. His neck was definitely feeling that mistake now.

Fabulous.

The weight against his back -actually, it was _on_ his back, now that he thought about it- shifted again accompanied by a faint mumble. Taavi. Carefully, Lance reached up and pulled the blanket down so he could see over the fabric. He couldn’t see over the ledge onto the pod floor because of the way the bed was designed, but he could hear the soft muttering of Ran and Alve nearby. Darja wouldn’t be far from them and, hopefully, Keith would be near Darja.

With a huge, jaw cracking yawn, Lance began slithering out from beneath Taavi’s body. When he heard a faint complaint from the little boy, Lance froze casting his eyes around the bed frantically for a pillow. Noticing a pillow by his knees above the blanket, he grabbed it and slowly worked it under his chest as he slid out from underneath Taavi.

Eventually, he was able to wriggle free and replace his body with the pillow. Taavi slumbered on peacefully. Pushing himself up to his hands and knees, Lance looked over to his sleeping little brother and smiled quietly. Taavi was a deep sleeper most of the time and a cuddler all of the time. Lance gently brushed his fingers through his little brother’s light brown hair briefly before reluctantly forcing himself to crawl out of bed.

He probably looked regrettable. He could already feel wrinkles on his face from where the folds in the mattress sheet had pressed against his cheek. How did he end up on his stomach so often? It just didn’t make sense. Ugh. So frustrating. One of these days he was going to accidentally suffocate himself in a sheet, blanket, or pillow while asleep.

At least it was evening now. Or, at least, he hoped it was evening. He was really getting sick and tired of taking multi-quintant ‘naps.’ Running a hand through his hair, Lance stumbled across the floor to where he saw Keith and Darja sitting on the pod’s lip a hand span above the encircling deck where Ran and Alve were studiously messing with something.

“Morning Sleeping Beauty,” Keith greeted with a smug, toothy grin on his face. From his shoulder, Chulatt chittered and waved at him merrily.

Morning? _Morning?!_

The shock must have shown on his face because Darja rolled her eyes and pushed Keith’s shoulder. “Ignore him,” she said. “You were only out for a few vargas.”

“Oh,” Lance sighed in relief. “Good.”

Without waiting for permission, Lance stepped down onto the deck and plopped onto the stoop between Keith and Darja. His sister readily shifted over a bit to give him more room.

“I heard about what happened,” Darja said softly, her black eyes soft and gentle. She rested a hand on his back, rubbing it soothing. “I’m sorry.”

He nodded. “Thirty-seven dead last count,” he murmured, hanging his head.

“Thirty-nine, actually,” Keith corrected, shooting Lance a remorseful look. “A couple of the older yellow Druids passed away a little over an hou- a varga ago.”

Oh. Lance felt his entire body wilt. Thirty-nine Vuana lost, and they were still vulnerable to the Breeders. By the time the equinox celebration was over, who knew how many would truly be gone. He hated this. All of it.

Well, okay, maybe not all of it. But quiznak, he certainly hated most of it. Surtr erupting was just too much. Vuana was a dangerous world, but it was home. The people of Vuana would survive this just like they had survived so many previous attempts to cull their numbers, natural and otherwise.

But with the storm clouds covering most of the sky, the constant threat of the Breeders from their own ranks, and now Surtr… Lance was beginning to wonder if the Encompassing Universe was truly trying to eradicate his people for their crime long ago. A planet for a planet. A people for a people. A life for a life.

In a twisted sort of way, the Vuana probably deserved it. What their ancestors did was terrible and unforgivable. But it had been so long since then. Dear ‘Verse, have mercy.

“Lance? Lance.”

“Hmm?” Lance lifted his head and was met by a concerned pair of violet eyes gazing back at him.

“Hey. I’m sorry,” Keith said softly, placing a heavy hand on Lance’ shoulder.

Too emotionally weary to respond verbally, Lance just nodded, dropping his head so his chin rested on his knees. He blinked, surprised to see Chulatt clamoring up his pants leg then up his arm to settle on his shoulder, nuzzling his neck. The mouse’s reassuring presence brought a faint smile to his lips.

“They’ll be raising the shield soon,” Darja said in a calm tone. “The high altitude winds are forcing Surtr’s ash cloud to drift in our direction.”

Lance heaved a sigh in acknowledgement, reaching up to scratch Chulatt’s blue fur with a finger. This would be a tense equinox celebration, if it could even be called a celebration at this point. Oh well. At least there would be music and drinking and food. As if in direct response to his thoughts, his stomach grumbled loudly.

“You are unbelievable,” Keith groaned, leaning back so far that his back hit the floor behind him. “Literally unbelievable.”

Lance snorted, a smile working its way onto his face despite his mood. “I appreciate the little things in life,” he said in an airy tone.

“Are you ever not hungry?” Keith asked, running his hands over his face in fond exasperation. Chulatt made a squeaky sound Lance knew was laughter.

Snickering, Lance made a show of thinking deeply. “Hm, I suppose I’m not hungry when I’m sleeping,” he teased.

“Oh my god.”

“That sounds about right,” Darja said easily, bracing her hands on the floor behind her and leaning back. “You practically think with your stomach.”

“Who thinks with their stomach?” Alve trilled, turning around to face the ‘adults’ of the family.

“Lance,” Darja replied, her violet scales flashing as her cheeks lifted from her unrepentant grin.

“Oh.”

“What? Nothing to add?” Lance said, sitting up and looking over at his little sister.

He watched as Chulatt picked its way down his arm before leaping to the deck and running across the wood and metal to join Alve and Ran. What by the Encompassing ‘Verse were those two working on if it attracted even Chulatt’s interest?

“Not really,” Alve said, tucking a strand of her long red-brown hair behind her ear. “Just, if I eat as much as Lance, will I start getting bigger too?”

Keith no longer bothered to hide the grin Lance knew had been behind those hands. Instead, he laughed so hard his back flopped on the floor like a beached Myr. Even Darja was trying her best to cover up her laughter behind a pathetic cough. Stunned, Lance’s mouth dropped open and he stared at his little sister in shock and slight offense.

“I am not big!” Lance cried.

“Yes, you are,” Ran chimed in.

“No, I am not,” Lance argued, his cheeks burning.

“You’re bigger than me,” Ran said with a shrug.

Keith lost it again and Lance still wasn’t sure what to do with himself. Keith batted his hand against Lance’s back trying to get his attention. Lance ignored him.

“He’s… ha… He’s not wrong,” Keith managed before collapsing in another fit of cackles.

“I am not… You are all awful,” Lance groaned, crossing his arms over his chest and falling back to the floor next to Keith in a huff.

The red paladin rolled over to his stomach and rested his head on one of his hands and stared down at Lance’s disgruntled face. “They’re right, you know,” Keith said, a ridiculous grin on his face. “You are bigger than they are.”

Heat burned Lance’s cheeks. This was bordering on-

“A _lot_ bigger,” Keith added.

“Okay, really,” Lance growled, getting genuinely upset. “This is getting a-”

“This way,” Keith continued right on top of Lance’s words.

To demonstrate his point, Keith trailed a finger up Lance’s thigh, over his stomach -which fluttered at the light touch- and chest -just missing a nipple- and the bulge in his throat -which bobbed at the tickling sensation- and settling on his lips. Lance stared up at Keith’s smug grin and wickedly gleaming violet eye, dumbfounded.

Frakking frell, that was too smooth to be legal.

Keith hummed victoriously, tapped Lance’s lower lip, and then _sat up?!_ _What?_ No. No way was Keith getting away from this without finishing what he started. Reaching up, Lance snagging two handfuls of black hair and yanked Keith’s head back down, ignoring the startled yelp of pain, to plant a sloppy kiss on Keith’s mouth.

“If you’re going to keep doing that,” Darja said, “then could you at least go to one of the pods on the higher levels? I’m really not interested.”

Keith immediately tried to pull away but Lance wouldn’t let him. Besides, the blush in Keith’s pale cheeks was amusing.

“Don’t worry, sister dearest,” Lance said, tugging Keith’s head lower so he could reach his ear with his tongue. He flicked his tongue over the off rounded cartilage, loving the way Keith stiffened and his breath became uneven. “I’m saving that for the festival.”

“Mmhm. I’m sure you are,” Darja said, sounding very much like she was rolling her eyes in amusement.

Lance chuckled, and bit Keith’s ear. Hard.

Keith made a satisfying yelp and jolted back so fast and abruptly that he overbalanced backwards. He ended up landing on his ass with a thud, eyes wide and staring at Lance in aroused horror.

“What’s wrong, pretty boy?” Lance teased, pushing himself up so he rested on his forearms. “Didn’t know I bite?” Keith blinked, his cheeks brilliant red. “Well, hello, Keith. It’s good to meet the person who’s so good at making the Red Lion jealous.” The blush intensified, and Lance’s grin widened. “My name is Lance, and I bite.”

“What is _wrong_ with you?” Keith cried.

“Nothing at the moment,” Lance said, getting to his feet and stretching luxuriously.

The stress and gloom from earlier weren’t gone, but they weren’t hanging over his head anymore. It really was amazing how teasing Keith could do that to him.

“I assume you already visited the bathing pods?” he asked, shaking himself off.

Darja nodded. “I took Alve shortly after you and Keith arrived, then Keith took Ran. It’s your turn. Take Taavi with you,” she directed with a wave of her hand. “Also, you’re in charge of dinner tonight.”

“As expected,” he said.

Rummaging through a storage compartment in the floor, Lance withdrew a fresh set of clothes for himself and Taavi. Speaking of Taavi, the boy was still curled up on the bed sleeping soundly. With a soft smile, Lance gathered up his little brother, kissing his light green scales when Taavi grumbled.

“Want to take a shower with me?” he asked gently.

Blinking and rubbing the sleepy out of his green eyes, Taavi nodded. Latching his arms around Lance’s neck, Taavi slumped tiredly against his big brother’s chest. Lance tucked their change of clothes as well under his other arm and made his way back to the deck.

“We’ll be back,” he said to Darja. “Don’t get into too much trouble, Keith,” he added with a wink. The red paladin shot him a flat stare that almost hid the smile hiding there. Almost.

The walk to the bathing pods was easy since they were all mostly in the lower, thicker branches of Yggdrasil. The bathing pools were built directly into the enormous tree trunk and near the base of the thick branches. Water from the natural springs was pumped up through Druid-formed metal pipes directly to the few bathing pods, filling their pools and continuously flowing through their shower pads.

Any water that wasn’t used in the bathing pods was pumped to the numerous communal relief pods scattered throughout the Frey settlement. It was much easier for the Vuana to only walk a short ways to relieve themselves then have to trek down to the bathing pods every day. Besides, this allowed the bathing to pods to be saved for more restful visits. There were a couple relief pods next to the pools and showers, but not many.

By the time they reached the bathing pods, Taavi was fully awake and looking around.

“Do you want a bath or a shower?” Lance asked, shifting his little brother so Taavi could have a better look at the pods closest to them.

The pools in the pods along Yggdrasil’s trunk had a few people in them lounging or scrubbing but the showers in the pods higher up were mostly empty from what Lance could see. The drying pod between the shower and pool pods only had one woman in it. Strange, there were usually more people in the bathing pods at this time of day. Even the weather shouldn't effect that.

“Shower,” Taavi said, pointing at his chosen pod.

Chuckling, Lance bounced Taavi in his arms. “Showers it is,” he said, smiling. The climb to the shower pod consisted of just one set of twenty steps along Yggdrasil’s trunk. “Alright, young man,” Lance said, setting Taavi down on the ground. “Why don’t you take your clothes and pick the shower with the right water temperature. I bet I can get there first.”

Lance grinned, handed his little brother his pile of garments, and skipped ahead. Not about to be beaten, Taavi squealed and pushed passed Lance so he could race up the steps first. Laughing, Lance slowed his pace just enough to let his little brother win.

Then a sudden gust of wind from the open ocean pushed Lance towards the massive trunk, startling him. The branches creaked softly as they moved, leaves ripping off and swirling in the air.

Pausing on the steps, Lance stared out at the sea and the storm clouds roiling dangerously close. A few sprinkles of rain splashed on Lance’s face, cool and refreshing. A bolt of lightning streaked across the sky followed by a loud clap of thunder that made him wince, his shoulders instinctively hitching up to cover his ears. As terrible as it may be, Lance still found the storm beautiful.

Unfortunately, he wouldn’t have the chance to enjoy the rain for much longer. A couple ticks later, a thrum of quintessence pulsed through his body, felt by every Druid in Frey and probably Freya too. At the same time, every light in Frey dimmed and the pressure in every pump dipped. Metallic arms like long, curved fingernails broke through the ocean’s surface, glowing a steady blue-violet.

The glow pulsed rhythmically with each tick. Ten ticks. Seven ticks. Five. Three. One.

Hexagonal patches erupted from the metal arms, latching onto their neighbors and forming a shield that climbed ever higher into the sky. The blue-violet shield spread wide until it was a full span beyond the reach of the longest branch of Yggdrasil. Then it arced back to meet and seal at the pinnacle of the great tree to form a near perfect, dimly glowing dome.

It really was mesmerizing. Lance had to shake himself to tear his eyes away from the newly formed shield and look back up the stairs. Taavi was no longer in sight but Lance wasn’t necessarily surprised. This wasn’t the first time Taavi had ever seen the shield. It wasn’t Lance’s first time either. But that wasn’t what mattered. It was a spectacular sight.

“Taavi!” he called up the stairs. “Did you find the right water temp-”

A small, dark furred head appeared at the top of the steps, peering down at him curiously with eerie green-yellow eyes. Fluffy blue ears perked up, tilted to him as if waiting for Lance to speak. The animal looked uncannily like the Lions of Voltron if much, much smaller. Was this a miniature lion?

“Hello there,” Lance said, pitching his voice low and soft. “Did you come in with the Earthbound?”

The creature tilted its head, considering him as it flicked its tail. It made a soft meow, nothing like the Voltron Lions’ roars, but adorable all the same. What an oddly endearing creature.

Lance smiled and continued his climb under the curiously watchful eyes of the tiny Lion-like creature. When he reached the top, he lifted his gaze to the showers. At first glance, the room appeared empty. But that didn't make sense. Where was-

“Taavi!” he shouted.

Dropping his things, he ran across slanted floor beneath the streams of water to where his little brother lay still and unconscious. He fell to his knees and rolled his brother onto his back so Taavi's mouth wasn’t in pooling water near the drain. Lance pressed two fingers against Taavi’s throat, relieved beyond belief when he felt a strong, steady pulse.

His relief didn’t last. The sound of the water changed pitch when the particle barrier surrounding the shower pod suddenly activated, muffling the outside noise and holding in the steam. Who would-

“Breeders?” he breathed, blue eyes darting around the steamy room, searching for whoever was responsible.

He was lucky. If he hadn’t been a Druid, he probably wouldn’t have thought to look up.

He tried to scoop Taavi into his arms protectively, but the attacker wasn’t interested in Taavi it seemed. A lashing tail smashed into his chest faster than he could move. It sent him sailing through the foggy air, smacking bodily against the one wall that wasn’t a particle barrier but Yggdrasil’s solid, unforgiving trunk. The force of both the initial strike and the landing knocked the wind out of him.

He gasped, feeling panic begin to claw at his heart when his muscles consistently cramped up before he could breathe. A dark figure approached him, its long, sinuous tail swishing behind it. One of his hands patted his hip, his fingers closing around the handle of his bayard. Ripping it from his belt, he activated it and fired two shots from the newly formed blue and white rifle.

Unfortunately, those were the only shots he could get out before the bayard was knocked from his barely functioning hands. He was getting dizzy. He still couldn’t get enough air and the steam wasn’t helping at all. A scaly, sharp-nailed hand closed around his neck and squeezed hard enough to force both of his hands to scrabble at it, scratching desperately for freedom.

A blue scaled face half hidden by a black hood regarded him sightlessly. A streak of violet scales split the reptilian face down the center stopping at the creature’s upper jaw. Two nostrils above its jaw flared. What in the Encompassing Universe?!

“You’re… not a… Breeder,” he gasped in confusion.

Something whammed into his mind with stunning force. No. No, not again. He would not do this again. _Not again!_ His mind was _his own!_ Blue roared in furious agreement in his mind, surging to the forefront of his sense of self.

Screaming unintelligibly, he planted one hand on his assailant’s chest and lashed out with his and Blue’s quintessence, blasting it back with a burst of frost lightning. Finally free, his body slumped weakly against the rough bark wall, coughing and shivering from the icy quintessence still rushing through his veins.

Taavi.

Stumbling through the thickening steam and water, Lance reached for his little brother. Only for a tail to loop around his wrist and yank his arm around behind him, pinning it there. A clawed hand pressed against his pinned arm, forcing his chest into the water flowing across the floor. He struggled, trying to grab something - _anything!_ \- to use to grab, smack, or use to fight back or escape.

Teleport. He was too dizzy to attempt a jump too far -really, he shouldn’t be attempting this _at all,_ but frak if he cared- but he was not going to lie here and be-

Something pressed against his mind again and terror thrummed through his veins, activating his quintessence before he could fully consider the consequences of his actions. He vanished, reappearing a few feet away directly under a stream of scalding hot water. Screaming, he jerked out of the hot water-

Straight into his assailant. A clawed hand clamped around his burning face, sharp nails digging into his eye scales. He choked on a terrified, pained scream, his own fingernails desperately scratching at the creature’s hand and armored arm.

The small Lion-like creature leapt gracefully onto his assailant’s shoulder, its tail swishing. It crouched, its nose hovering over the blue and orange symbol on his attacker’s chest armor. Lance glanced between the scaly fingers on his face at the symbol and gasped.

“Lotor?” he breathed.

The attacker stiffened, then dug its nails harder into his scales. Whispers, emotions, thoughts, _presence_ shoved its way through his scales into his mind, threatening to overwhelm him. Blue roared angrily in his mind, her icy quintessence joining his as he fought against the intruder.

The pressure increased. He wasn’t going to win. His sight was clouding as the foreign _presence_ assaulted his mind, subverting his consciousness. Why? _Why_ though? He was loyal to Prince Lotor!

“P-please,” he whimpered. Between the Blue’s roars, the water, and the pressure in his mind, his voice sounding muffled to his ears. “Lo… tor…” he gasped breathlessly. “Vre… pit… sa…”

The attacker flinched in surprise.

 “Taa…vi…”

The intrusion overwhelmed him

_Help! Please!_

Silence.


	43. Thaldycon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Pidge is curious, is a betting woman, and a master pun-isher. No matter what Shiro thinks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** I am back with a B- as my Final Grade, my thesis proposal almost complete, and a new chapter. Too bad y'all gotta wait on that cliffhanger a bit longer. Oh well~

“You’re right. It is coordinates,” Pidge said, studying the readouts on her computer. “They were hidden in the code as separate number chains.”

“Can you bring them up on the main view screen, please Pidge?” the princess asked from her place on the control podium in the center of the Castleship’s bridge.

“Sure. One sec,” the green paladin said.

She typed in a few quick commands then swiped her finger up the computer screen. Immediately, the coordinates were displayed on the main view screen in flashing purple Galra symbols.

“Thank you,” Allura said. “Coran, I need you to locate these coordinates.”

“Already on it, your highness,” the Altean advisor said from where he was bent over a control panel studying the display on a smaller view screen. “Got it!” he crowed, swiping to allow his display to dominate the main view screen. “It’s here. The Thaldycon system.”

Pidge grinned proudly. Beside her, Shiro breathed a sigh of relief. She could hardly blame him. It had been an uphill battle just to convince the princess to let them check Shiro’s arm for coordinates in the first place. Allura hadn’t been at all impressed by Shiro’s insistence that a Galra had been the one to help him escape Zarkon the first time. While Pidge understood Allura’s suspicion and distrust, her fanatic hatred was beginning to make Pidge uncomfortable.

She kept thinking about what Lance told her; about most of the Galra Empire not liking Emperor Zarkon and how they followed him out of fear, not loyalty. Lance was both a Druid and an Altean who willingly served the Galra Empire and, after some convincing, decided to help them fight against Zarkon.

Lance was also still missing. So was Keith. Despite their efforts, the Voltron team had not been able to track down the Blue and Red Lions’ signals. Pidge studiously pushed those stressful thoughts to the back of her mind. She knew her friends wouldn’t stop looking. They’d find Lance and Keith, she had no doubt.

Sooner rather than later would be nice though.

“Fine,” Allura mumbled reluctantly. “We’ll go to the Thaldycon system but if nothing’s there, we’re leaving. The Galra are not to be trusted.”

Here we go again.

Pidge waited by Shiro’s side until the blue-white of the Altean wormhole vanished. The space they now hovered in was filled with huge chucks of crystals floating in a ring around the Thaldycon system’s host star. The crystals gleamed a soft, nonthreatening greenish blue. Maybe it was their harmless appearance that made Pidge suspicious.

“Wow. Xanthorium clusters,” Coran said, staring at the view screen. The scanners locked onto a single crystal cluster and analyzed it. “I’ve never seen so many in one place before.”

“Is there anything else on the scanners?” Hunk asked leaning over the Altean advisor’s shoulder curiously. Then he frowned. “Wait. I know those molecules. Why aren’t those nitrate salts in triple bonds?”

Or maybe it was that.

“Shit,” Pidge muttered. “So they’re unstable?”

“Oh yeah,” Hunk said, nodding enthusiastically. “Very unstable. Like, I’m amazed how they aren’t exploding right now. That unstable.”

“Oh. Great.”

Shiro grit his teeth. “Coran,” he said louder. “Is there anything else showing up on the Castle’s scanners. Anything at all?”

The advisor shifted through the readouts on the main view screen. This belt of xanthorium clusters was probably the equivalent of the asteroid belt back home. There were five planets in this system closer to the system’s host star with only one in the Goldilocks zone. Pidge couldn’t help but wonder what that one habitable planet was like.

“Nothing,” Coran announced. He turned to face the black paladin with a reluctant frown. “I’m sorry.”

“Maybe the coordinates weren’t right,” Hunk offered. “No offense Pidge.”

Pidge glared at her friend in frustrated betrayal. “Hey!” she snapped. “I did nothing wrong and I’ll bet my last tampon I decrypted it right.”

Hunk blinked, raised both hands, and backed away. “On that note, maybe we’re just missing something?”

“We have to be,” Shiro muttered, standing from his seat and striding closer to Coran’s control station.

“Or we’re not and this was just a trick to distract us from our mission,” Allura said, frowning at Shiro. “You can’t trust the Galra. We should leave.”

“No,” Shiro insisted, louder. “Let’s just wait. We need a break anyway. It took a lot out of us getting away from Zarkon last time. Besides,” he glanced significantly at Pidge, “I think we all want the chance to keep looking for Keith and Lance.”

Yes. Yes, absolutely yes.

Allura sighed. “Fine,” she agreed. “But we’re raising the shields and I’m setting the alarm to go off if the scanners find anything.”

“Good idea,” Shiro nodded.

The tense silence that followed hung heavy on everyone. It really was odd how glaring the emptiness left in their team was with Keith and Lance still missing. Pidge, Hunk, Shiro, Allura, and Coran had done well enough on their own with Keith’s help before Lance showed up. But they’d adapted to the addition of Lance and the Blue Lion too quickly and it was getting difficult to fall back to being a Lion or two short of Voltron.

Keith was definitely a trigger-happy pilot who took everything too seriously, but he’d been nice to Pidge. He had no problem listening to her excited rants about her latest technological toy. He wasn’t always able to follow along with everything she said, but he’d enjoyed listening.

She was also incredibly proud to be privy to the red paladin’s not-much-of-a-secret obsession with cryptids. It made her feel special. Listening to Keith fill her head with conspiracy theories, some too crazy for either of them to believe, that he’d read or heard about was actually fun and entertaining. Keith may not believe in Bigfoot or the Loch Ness Monster, but he’d been a solid believer in aliens long before he’d ended up in space _with_ aliens on their team and flying a giant alien robot Lion.

Considering what had driven her to falsify her identity and gender to sneak into the Galaxy Garrison to find out what happened to her family, Pidge found it hard to dismiss some of Keith’s crazier government conspiracy theories. They just seemed too plausible now. Well, minus the little green men thing. But Keith didn’t believe in those things either.

Wait. There weren’t little green men in space. Right? Those Star Trek knock-off furry tribble-things with mustaches from that junk nebula she and the Green Lion had been tossed out into from the wormhole disruption didn’t count. They were cute. She wanted one.

Lance, she missed for other reasons. The guy was definitely crazy with a side of metahuman Avenger status power stuff. He was also a dork, utterly clueless about modern pop culture on Earth, and a great prank buddy. Honestly, some of Lance’s jokes were clever and watching the guy tease the living daylights out of Keith was gold. She would never forget that butt zap thing. That had been glorious.

She whined and slumped in her chair as the Castleship’s scanners continued to pick up a whole lot of nothing from the Thaldycon system. She missed her slippery sneaky skinny stick. She even missed his magicarp flopping.

Man, it was so boring without those guys.

“Hey, what’s up with that planet there?” Hunk said, startling Pidge from her boredom.

Mildly curious, she lifted her brown gaze up to the main view screen. She frowned when she noticed there was nothing new on it. What was so interesting? Looking down at Hunk’s back, she watched the yellow paladin point at one of the planets on Coran’s smaller display.

“Hm? Which one?” the advisor asked, looking up from his control panel to the display.

“The one by the…” Hunk paused and leaned forward, blocking Pidge’s view of the small screen. “Huh. Are those rings?”

Okay, not the coolest thing in the universe by far, but it was something new. “Where?” she asked curiously, sitting up in her seat.

“I’ll bring it up on the main screen,” Coran said.

The Altean made a few quick calculations and tapped his smaller view screen. A second later, the new image on the main view screen showed a zoomed in image of a planet. It was approximately the size of Earth but apparently entirely covered by water with ice at both poles. A series of thin rings looped elegantly around the planet’s equator glinting in the light of the host star.

They weren’t anywhere near as impressive as Saturn’s rings, of course, but they sparkled in the sunlight. A thin break in the rings as well as a small, round shadow revealed at least one shepherd moon within the bands of dust and ice that Pidge could see.

Okay, not as interesting as she first thought. Sinking back into her chair, she lazily looked at the planet proper. There were tons of clouds scattered over the oceanic surface. Some were shining bright white in the sunlit side of the planet and some varied between a dark gray or black on the night side of the planet. Then she noticed the enormous hurricane covering a large section of the planet’s surface and whistled.

“Woah,” she breathed. “That is one big storm.”

“Actually,” Hunk said, holding up a finger and leaning closer to Coran’s smaller screen, “I think that’s two storms.”

“What?” Pidge gasped. “No way.”

“No, I think you’re right, Hunk,” Shiro said, crossing his arms and gazing up at the exoplanet’s weather with interest. “I think those _are_ two storms. They look like they’re colliding or something.”

“More like merging, I think, but yeah,” the yellow paladin said, nodding. “It makes sense, kind of. With no land mass, that we can see anyway, there probably isn’t anything that could put the brakes on those storms.”

“Ah, but there must be land of some kind,” Coran said. He tapped his display and a small red square flashed around a tiny sector of the planet’s surface and zoomed in to it. “See here?” the advisor said, pointing at the main view screen. “That’s a heat signature. Pretty significant one too.”

“Is it Galra?” Allura asked, voicing the fear they all felt humming beneath the surface.

“No, it doesn’t appear to be caused by technology,” Coran declared, studying the Altean symbols flashing across the screen too quickly to read. Not that Pidge could read Altean yet, but that wasn’t the point.

“A fire?” Shiro asked.

“If it is, I’d imagine it’d be enormous,” the advisor said, shaking his head. Coran stepped back and stared up at the main view screen with a thoughtful frown. “I certainly wouldn’t want to be there if that was a fire,” he muttered.

“What if it’s a huge bonfire?” Hunk offered. “We could make s’mores.”

Pidge snorted. Leave it to Hunk to bring up food. What she’d give for a good s’more right now. She glanced at Shiro and snickered. Apparently she wasn’t the only one missing those chocolatey-marshmallowy-graham-crackery goodness. Good to know

“I doubt it’s a bonfire,” Shiro said, obviously fighting back a grin. “But I have seen satellite images of wildfires back on Earth’s surface before. So it could be that.”

“But that still wouldn’t make sense,” Pidge muttered, pushing herself out of her seat.

She watched as the gigantic hurricane -er, hurricane _s_ \- swirled over the open ocean near the dark gray-brown streams of cloud moving another direction at a higher altitude. Gray-brown clouds that didn’t look exactly like clouds. Smoke maybe? She frowned. It did seem to originate from the heat signature, but smoke didn’t seem right.

“I think it’s a volcano,” Pidge murmured, eyes going wide. “It has to be a volcano. And that,” she pointed to the streams of high altitude gray-brown ‘clouds,’ “has to be the ash plume. Holy shit. A giant hurricane and an erupting volcano. Now _that’s_ a cool planet.”

“Yeah, minus, you know, the bad weather and murderous volcano,” Hunk said with a sarcastic shrug. “Count me out.”

Shiro chuckled and Pidge found herself smiling too. She wondered if Lance would like this world. Keith might, the weirdo. She happened to know the goof had a thing for stupid megadisaster movies. He’d paid her often enough to sell him pirated versions of the movies to watch in the Garrison, after all.

The abrupt change in lighting from soft blue to harsh, flashing red of the alarm filled the bridge, cutting through Pidge’s thoughts.

“What the hell?”

“There’s an intruder in the Castle!” Coran cried.

“Quiznak!” Allura cursed. “Of course this would be a trap. Never trust the Galra.”

A few quick flicks of the princess’s fingers and a view of every surveillance camera in the Castle was visible on her holographic display. Pidge ran up to the princess’s side just in time for Allura to catch sight of movement in one of the screens.

“Found him,” she said, glaring at the hooded figure running down the hallway. “Level 5. No visible weapons.”

“Alright guys,” Shiro said, taking charge. “Bayards ready?” Pidge jumped back to her seat and grabbed her green and white weapon at the same time Hunk did the same thing. Shiro narrowed his eyes and nodded. “Allura, Coran, keep us appraised of the intruder’s position and movements. The rest of you, look sharp.”

When Pidge ran out the lift doors on Shiro’s heels, she’d been fully ready to give that creep hell. Unfortunately, all she got was hell. It had been a humiliatingly short fight which she would probably never live down. For once, she was almost glad her brother Matt wasn’t here. He would have teased her about her bumps and bruises to kingdom come.

At least the intruder was finally handcuffed and no longer fighting back. That was one good thing going for them. Although she had been expecting the intruder to be Galra, she had _not_ been expecting him to be the Ulaz guy who freed Shiro from Zarkon. That just seemed incredibly coincidental.

Coincidences were not to be trusted. She was an engineer. Coincidences meant there was something else going on that she hadn’t been aware of and should probably make herself aware of ASAP.

“If I wanted to kill you, you would be dead the moment you arrived here,” Ulaz said.

Okay. That wasn’t creepy at all. Even though it was probably true.

“If you’re trying to win my trust, you’re failing miserably,” Allura hissed, crossing her arms and glaring at the captive Galra.

“I could care less about your trust. My people and I are trying to win a war. A war we have been fighting for many deca-phoebs,” Ulaz said, shifting his golden gaze to Shiro. “When the witch Haggar decided to create your new arm by herself instead of assigning another Druid instead, we knew you were important.”

“Why does that make me important?” Shiro said.

“To be honest, I don’t know,” Ulaz answered. “But we knew if Zarkon’s second in command had taken a personal interest in someone of a race entirely new to us, then the best thing to do was to get it... _you_ , out of her reach.”

Pidge looked up to her friend and leader and saw the conflicted, cautious hope in the black paladin’s eyes. A faint smile worked its way onto Shiro’s face.

“Well, thanks for that,” he said.

“You keep saying ‘we,’” Allura said suspiciously. “What is this ‘we’ you speak of? Are there more of you here?” Fire burned in her eyes. “Are there more of your kind on my ship?”

Woah. This was starting to make Pidge feel a bit uncomfortable.

“We are called the Blade of Marmora,” Ulaz said readily. “And I am the only one stationed on this base.”

“Um,” Hunk spoke up, raising his hand like a student in class, “what ‘base’ are you talking about?”

“Yes,” Allura snapped. “We’ve scanned this entire system and found no bases or signs of life. Nothing. The coordinates just led us to this wasteland, and you.” Her turquoise eyes narrowed viciously and Pidge wasn’t sure what to make of it.

Ulaz blinked and tilted his head. “This is not a wasteland,” he said hesitantly. “This system is inhabited. But I am not surprised your scanners failed to pick up our base. Indeed, I would have been surprised if you had.”

“Why’s that?” Pidge couldn’t help but ask. “Is it cloaked or something?”

The Galra nodded. “It is,” he said, the faintest hint of a smile. “An… shall we say eccentric engineer named Slav designed a gravity generator capable of creating folds in space-time. The Blade of Marmora Communications Base Thaldycon resides inside one such pocket.”

“Woah,” Pidge moaned. “I’m in love.”

Shiro was probably giving her a look, but whatever. These guys made a fold in space-time. An actual _artificial hole_ in space-time. Like what the fuck, man! That’s awesome!

Ulaz’s smile softened to something more friendly. “You are welcome on our base,” he said, standing despite the shackles around his wrists and ankles. “I need to alert the leadership that I have made contact with Voltron. We had hoped our paths would cross.” He tilted his head. “Particularly since you now have a Druid as an ally,” he added.

“You mean Lance?” Hunk asked cautiously.

Ulaz turned his gaze to the yellow paladin thoughtfully. “I believe that was his name, yes,” he said. “One of our agents in the Central Command System informed us of that.” He shook his head slowly, his eyes wide. “I have never known a Druid to betray Zarkon before. Whatever you did to earn his trust was well done. He saved our agent’s life.”

“Lance isn’t loyal to Zarkon,” Pidge said, drawing Ulaz’s gaze. “He said most people in the Galra Empire don’t trust Zarkon. They serve him because they fear him.”

The Galra bowed is head. “That is so,” he said. “It is a long story and I would prefer to tell it while sending a message to the Blade of Marmora’s leadership. There is much we need to discuss.” He faced the princess directly. “If you wish, you are welcome to join me.”

Allura stared at Ulaz with narrowed, distrustful eyes before deliberately dismissing him and turning to Shiro. “Go with him,” she commanded. “And do not let him out of your sight.”

Oh _hell_ no. “I’m going to,” Pidge said. “I want to see the gravity generator.” She did. She really, really, _really_ did.

“One hundred percent what she said,” Hunk said, pointing to Pidge.

Oh, she could not let that slide.

“That’s exactly what you said last night.” Wait for it.

Brown eyes locked on Pidge in a friendly but disappointed face. “Pidge,” Hunk said, “I expect better from you. Someone give me a knife so I can show Pidge exacto-ly what I mean.”

Pidge gaped, then smirked. “Ooh, are you pun-ishing me, Hunk?” she teased. “Should I put on my Sunday best?”

“Only if there’s a chocolate Sunday involved,” Hunk replied promptly.

“Guys!” Shiro interjected. “Focus.”

He was totally hiding a grin. Pidge could clearly see it in the crinkles by Shiro’s eyes and the upturned lips.

“I… do not understand,” Ulaz said, blinking in confusion. “What is a Sunday and what does that have to do with punishment?”

Pidge snorted. Oh, she was looking forward to the ride to the base. And hey, whatever this Blade of Marmora group was, they were against Zarkon and that was good enough for Pidge. Even if it was a little weird.


	44. Warning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Pidge needs brain bleach, Ulaz is scared, and Keith is driven to do... things involving Lance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** I missed my update last night. I literally fell asleep while writing, woke up at 2-something in the morning, pushed my computer away and went back to sleep. I'm working all day every day this week, but I managed to finish this chapter. It's on the longer side. I think y'all will like this bit more than the last.
> 
> Then again, maybe not. More questions~ ...I'll edit this seriously tomorrow when I'm cognizant.

It was official. The Blade of Marmora base was spectacular. It was much more streamlined than any of the Galra battlecruisers or bases Pidge and the Voltron had seen up until this point. The design was compact since, according to Ulaz, only one agent of the Galra resistance was assigned here at a time.

There was no need for extra room or power to be rerouted from peripheral systems. Mostly because there _were_ no real peripheral systems that Pidge could fine. Life support, visuals and power for the view screens, the communications, the space-time folding gravity generator, basic power for personal needs, and nothing else. This place was designed to be efficient. Nothing else.

It felt… lonely.

“So, um, earlier…”

Well done, Hunk. Verbose as always. Pidge snickered at her friend.

“You were saying something about this Blade of Marmora group having secret agents in Zarkon’s Central Command System?” Hunk said.

Oh. Yeah. That was rather important, actually.

“Of course,” Ulaz said readily, typing an encoded message into the base’s computer. What Pidge would give to have the chance to figure out that code.

“And it was a good thing we did,” Ulaz continued, turning to level his hard, golden gaze at Shiro. “What were you thinking going straight to the Central Command System and engaging Zarkon in battle? Do you have any idea how many noncombatants live in those rings? By engaging Zarkon’s forces, you endangered all of their lives.”

“Hey!” Pidge cried angrily. “Wait a minute-”

“Pidge,” Shiro said, placing a firm hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay. He’s right.” Shiro met Ulaz’s gaze. “About half of it.”

Golden eyes blinked and Ulaz tilted his head. “Explain,” he said.

Shiro heaved a sigh before speaking. “Our plan was to avoid Zarkon’s Central Command System as much as possible until we were strong enough to face him directly,” he began. “We weren’t yet. We knew that.” His dark gray eyes hardened. “But one of our team was captured and we couldn’t leave them there. For lots of reasons.”

“Ah,” the Galra murmured, nodding in understand. “The princess, I assume.”

“It wasn’t her fault,” Hunk said quickly, leaping to Allura’s defense.

“I do not doubt it,” Ulaz agreed, nodding. He leaned back against the base’s main console and observed his guests thoughtfully. “You were wise to retrieve you compatriot. However, I would have suggested a more… subtle route next time.”

“Let’s hope there isn’t a next time,” Shiro said grimly.

“Agreed.”

Turning back to his incomplete message, Ulaz typed a few more symbols. Less than a minute later, the message was confirmed as sent and Ulaz had returned his full attention to Shiro. Pidge got twitchy from standing there listening to Shiro and his savior catch up. Besides, how could she possibly focus where there was a bright, shiny, space-time folding, gravity generator _right there_ outside the main view screen. So cool!

“So you said this Slav guy invented this, right?” she said, staring out at the generator in awe. “I have got to meet him.”

Ulaz huffed a sound that Pidge could only call a laugh, startling her. “I do not know where he is,” the Galra said. “He tends to avoid most people. Or, depending on who you believe, most people tend to avoid him.”

“What?” Pidge gasped, turning to the Galra in disbelief. “Why would anyone want to avoid a genius brilliant enough to create this masterpiece?” She gestured grandly at the generator. Then he paused. “Wait. He’s not a creeper or anything, right?”

“I am not sure if I would say Slav… creeps,” Ulaz said slowly, obviously picking his words with care. Suspicious. “He tends to… squirm more than anything else.”

…oh crap. Please tell her Slav wasn’t a giant earthworm or something.

“Why is everything making me hungry today?” Hunk groaned dramatically.

Shiro turned to the yellow paladin in worried confusion. “Why are you hungry?” he asked.

Hunk shot the black paladin a flat look. “What squirms and is edible, Shiro?” he said. “Think about it.”

Shiro blinked, then snorted in amusement. “Only you would think of gummy worms right now, Hunk,” he said with a smile.

 

“I was not told all of the details, but I am aware that something has disturbed the supply lines for quintessence in the sector currently closest to the Central Command System.”

“Oh! Yeah, that was us,” Hunk said, a proud grin on his face. Which faded to a look of confusion a second later. “Wait. What do you mean by ‘currently closest?’ What? Does it move? Well, it’s space, of course it moves, but I mean does it _move-_ move? I thought it was part of a planetary system.”

The Galra blinked. “It is,” he said. “But that system does not have a host star. The two planets orbit themselves. They have for possibly millions of deca-phoebs. When our people began to live in space, we thought it wise to built a home system of our own that would be easily defensible against enemies but the demand for power would not exceed the supply.”

“But then, wouldn’t a system with a star be better?” Pidge asked curiously. “I mean, that’s a lot of renewable power. Stars are fairly reliable, after all.”

“True, but the brightness of most stars is too intense for our eyes to handle,” Ulaz said. “A brown dwarf would have been acceptable. But by the time the explorers found one suitable to our purposes, Zarkon had already discovered the two rogue planets and ordered our people to begun constructing what would become the Central Command System.”

Before Pidge could ask another question, a soft beeping sounded in the small ship’s bridge. Immediately, Ulaz focused his full attention on the readouts on the main view screen. Purple Galra symbols flashed quickly across the display with an urgency everyone could feel.

“What’s going on?” Shiro asked, taking a careful but concerned step forward so he stood shoulder to shoulder with Ulaz.

“This base was created to observe and relay communications between both field agents and other bases belonging to the Blade of Marmora’s,” Ulaz said, tapping the screen and selecting a particular image so it enlarged for a better, clearer view. “But it has only been stationed in this system for two deca-phoebs.”

“That doesn’t really answer the question,” Hunk said, frowning worriedly.

“On the contrary.” Ulaz straightened and stared at the planet displayed on the main view screen with narrowed eyes. “It explains much,” he said. “The Blade of Marmora does not investigate cursory interests unless we feel they have some bearing on our goal of dismantling Zarkon’s power structure. That includes the supply lines of quintessence. This,” he pointed to the planet on the view screen, “is connected to those supply lines but we’re not exactly sure how.”

He turned his gaze to the yellow paladin and continued. “Every record of this planet have been erased from the archives or heavily censored. Anyone who comes in contact with it, no matter what species they are or where their loyalties lie, are taken by the Druids or are suddenly reassigned to the front lines or they simply… vanish.”

Okay. Good reason to investigate.

“Why would Zarkon be interested in protecting this planet?” Hunk asked. “ _Any_ planet, now that I think about it. But why this one specifically?”

“We don’t know,” Ulaz said, turning back to the planet. “That’s why the Blade of Marmora decided to relocate this base here. To observe and investigate.”

“Why not sneak onto the planet?” Pidge asked. “I mean, we sneak onto Galra battlecruisers and bases and stuff. Why not do the same thing here?”

The Galra was already shaking his head. “We tried,” he said, golden eyes narrowed in what Pidge thought was frustration and… Was that fear? “They didn’t come back.”

Oh. Woah. Not creepy at all. And Ulaz was _scared_. That was a good sign that maybe this should be taken a bit more seriously than Pidge originally thought.

The beeping increased sharply in volume and tone just as something on the image of the unnamed planet on the view screen moved. Instantly, a red box encased the moving object and zoomed in. It looked like a ship, but it wasn’t Galra. Or, it didn’t _look_ like a Galra ship. It definitely wasn’t a Galra fighter. It was too big for that. But it wasn’t a battlecruiser either. It was too small and nimble for that.

“Is that one of yours?” Shiro asked, leaning close to view screen for a better look.

Ulaz stared at the ship with wide gold eyes, obviously surprised by what he was seeing. “No,” he said softly. “It’s not. I have only ever seen a ship of that design flown by a small, specialized group of people.” He frowned. “But he isn’t here,” he muttered under his breath. “He _should not_ be here.”

“Who shouldn’t be here?” Hunk said, eyeing Ulaz warily.

“Lotor,” Ulaz growled.

He hastily typed a message out on his console. The red box surrounding the moving ship flashed and red symbols began ticking by on the upper right corner. Was he recording this?

“Who’s Lotor?” Hunk pressed.

“Prince Lotor is the heir to the Galra Empire,” Ulaz said without sparing a glance at their -now very stunned- group. “He was exiled deca-phoebs ago for failing to obey Emperor Zarkon’s order to the letter.”

Pidge blinked and shared a horrified glance with Shiro and Hunk.

“Um,” Hunk said, gulping awkwardly, “by ‘heir’ do you mean… you know, like, he’s Zarkon’s… s-son?”

“He is, yes,” Ulaz replied, stilling refusing to move his eyes from the moving ship. “Why?”

“…What the fuck?” Pidge breathed, utterly dumbfounded. Her brain. Bleach. She needed bleach.

Hunk groaned and buried his face in his hands. “Oh my god,” he moaned. “Pidge, help. I have… images in my head. I can’t get them out.”

“Guys, focus,” Shiro said, although his unusually wide eyes revealed his own horrified disgust at the idea of Zarkon fucking someone.

Fuck. Pidge would have nightmares about that. She just knew it. Gross!

“You said Lotor was exiled,” Shiro said, steamrolling over their embarrassment. “Why’s he here now?”

Ulaz shook his head. “I do not believe that is Lotor himself,” he said. “Or, at least, I hope it is not. It is more likely to be-”

 _“Paladins!”_ the princess’s voice crackled through the comm speakers in Pidge’s helmet. _“Our sensors are detecting another ship heading this way.”_

“We see it, princess,” Shiro replied, all business. “Ulaz says he thinks it belongs to Prince Lotor.”

_“Prince!? What?!”_

“Hey, with all due respect, princess?” Pidge groaned. “Don’t keep talking about. Please. I’m going to be sick.”

 _“It’s heading right for us,”_ Coran said, sounding concerned the closer the ship came to the fold in space-time hiding the Blade of Marmora’s base.

“Do not worry,” Ulaz said. “It should pass right by us without incident.” He tilted his head. “Although, I would suggest we cease all communication and anything that could be detected.”

 _“I know what to do with my ship, Galra,”_ Allura said coldly.

Okay. Pidge needed to have a _talk_ with Allura. Or, better yet, have a talk with Shiro and have _him_ talk to Allura. Maybe the princess would listen to the black paladin.This hate-on she seemed to have for the Galra was understandable to an extent, but… This was getting to be a bit much. War or no war.

The beeping suddenly changed to a sharp, wailing alarm accompanied by flashing red alert lights throughout the base and Pidge tensed. “What the hell is that?” she cried, fingering her bayard out of habit.

“No,” Ulaz whispered, staring fixedly at the view screen.

He looked… terrified. Pidge felt her stomach churn. If Ulaz was afraid, then…

He snarled, baring his teeth and gripping the dagger strapped to his back. “You were followed!”

“What?” Shiro gasped, following Ulaz’s gaze to the thing that had just dropped from hyperspeed.

“Shit,” Pidge cursed. “It’s another one of those Robeast things.”

“But we made sure we lost the Galra before we came here,” Hunk said, shaking his head. “We made _sure!”_

 _“We **did** ,”_ Allura said. _“The only possible reason the Robeast could have found us is if that Galra betrayed us-”_

Pidge bit her tongue to keep from snapping something angry that should would regret later. Better to save that for when she was thinking clearly and could keep a good, strong, _serious…_ conversation, shall we say.

 _“-or that incoming ship signaled it,”_ Allura finished.

Much more plausible. Still.

Pidge aimed a furious glare out the view screen a the hovering Castle of Lions with its particle barrier raised, obviously ready for combat.

“We should probably head to our Lions,” she said, tearing her gaze away from the white Casleship to Shiro. “Just in case.”

“It should not be able to detect our base,” Ulaz said. But if that wasn’t a hint of doubt in his voice, Pidge would eat her bayard. “But, then again-” Oh boy. Here is comes. “-the Druids are good at what they do.”

That… did not sound good.

Without waiting for a command, Pidge turned and bolted for her Lion. It was a stroke of luck that everyone had ridden to the base in her Green Lion. Green’s cloaking would be useful for this fight. If their luck held, Pidge would be able to get Hunk and Shiro back to the castle to their Lions so they could all be ready.

Lance? Wherever the hell you are -and you had better be with Keith or so help her- they could definitely use your help right about now.

* * *

When Chulatt started squealing and flailing and scratching at his face, Keith didn’t pause to think through his actions. He just grabbed his bayard, activated it, and made sure the space mouse was on his shoulder before bolting from the pod home. He had no real idea of where he was going exactly except that he had to go _now!_

It was like a burning in his gut. It threatened the burn him alive if he didn’t answer this… call or whatever it was. Red roared angrily in his mind, fueling the consuming fire and filling his body with blazing energy. He could almost swear he could see sparks from his fingertips. But that had to be his imagination.

Lance. Lance needed him. _Now!_

How he knew that… _Why_ he knew that… He had no idea. But it didn’t matter.

Red roared again, sending snippets of images flashing across his eyes. Catches of paths, pods of a unique design, and the shield activating. But how…

Blue. Blue must be sending Red these memories -because that what’s they were, Keith realized- to help guide the red paladin to Lance. The Red Lion snarled and all clear thoughts became ash. Nothing mattered except Lance. Get to Lance. Now.

_Now!_

The few Vuana unfortunate enough to get in his way, were knocked aside. Most were quick enough to see the look in his eyes and dodge out of the way. Of course, the red and white bayard blade was probably a better warning than his eyes. Blush later, run now.

Keith could barely remember the run down through Yggdrasil. But he knew he was practically tingling with energy when he finally arrived at the bathing pods. A cursory scan of the area showed a distinct absence of Lance. Shower pods it was.

Winding around a curved pathway, Keith leapt onto the stairway, taking the steps two at a time as he went. He had no idea what he was expecting to find when he reached the top, but it… definitely wasn’t… um…

Fuck this shit. He was _definitely_ blushing but damn if he didn’t have a good reason.

There Lance sat, happy as you please, scrubbing suds into Taavi’s sopping wet brown hair. The little boy mumbled something that made Lance laugh. The crazy Druid pulled Taavi to his chest and blew a raspberry in his little brother’s neck, earning him a high-pitched squeal. Taavi flailed and ended up knocking both himself ad Lance off balance, sending then sprawling onto the shower floor.

It took a few seconds for Keith to fully comprehend what he seeing and he still wasn’t sure it made any sense. It the back of his mind, he could feel the Red Lion rumbling her displeasure and distrust of this whole, ridiculous situation. The urgency to get here was gone, but the lingering sense of _something isn’t quite right_ hadn’t gone away.

Instinct. The Red Lion was instinct. _Keith_ was instinct. What did his instincts tell him?

Lance kicked out with his legs so he could sit back up and that’s when…

Oh. Fuck.

Lance was _naked!_

No duh, Keith. Lance was in the shower. He was _supposed_ to be naked for that. But still, he was _nakedholyshit!_ And was that another _glowing_ tattoo on Lance’s back? Hot _damn_. He could feel his face burning.

And naturally, that was when Lance noticed him standing there, fully dressed, bayard activated by his side, and staring like a pervert. Lance’s blue eyes widened in momentary surprise. Then his gaze darkened to something heady and he smiled in what was _definitely_  a come hither expression and _shityesheshouldleavenow!!!!_

Slapping a hand over his mouth, Keith jumped back out of the shower and pressed his back up against the outer side of the particle barrier wall. What in tarnation had that been?! Red, Keith was waiting for an answer. Damn it. What. The. Hell?

Chulatt made a chittering sound -oh yeah, Keith forgot about him for a minute there- and Keith glanced over at the little blue mouse. It made him feel a bit better when he saw the same shock he was feeling reflected on the mouse’s expression.

Letting his head thunk back against the particle barrier, Keith groaned and covered his face with his hands. His bayard deactivated and Red’s fury ebbed but refused to go away. Keith knew what he’d seen and he still wasn’t sure this was real.

He had felt Red’s fury. He had seen _and_ heard Chulatt’s fear. He had _felt_ the urgent need to get to Lance _now!_ But it was all gone now. It wasn’t adding up. Something must have happened. Some _had_ to have happened. That was the only way to explain this.

So why did everything look normal?

Unless it was meant to look that way.

Taking a deep breath, Keith steeled himself and stepped back into the showers. Lance was still naked, still kneeling on the floor behind Taavi. and he was still scrubbing the suds out of his brother’s brown hair. Lance was damn attractive, but this wasn’t… right.

“Lance?” he ventured, trying to keep the suspicious from his voice. “What’s going on?”

The Druid looked at him with an oddly amused expression and chuckled. “I’m washing my brother’s hair,” he answered with a grin. His eyes hooded once more and Keith felt his face heat up from something _other_ than the steam. “Why? Would you care to join us?”

Yes.

“N-no.” Fuck.

Lance laughed and returned his attention to Taavi. “Go wash that out and let me do my hair now,” he said, patting the little boy’s back.

Taavi immediately got up and ran to one of the heavier downfalls of water near the far rim of the showers, leaving Lance kneeling on the floor near the drain in the middle of the room. Keith moved further into the room, taking care to avoid the waterfalls from the ceiling. When he was close enough, he crouched and looked anywhere but between Lance’s legs because _wowhewasalllegssosexyholyshit._

“Why are you here?”

Keith glanced sharply at Lance and yeah, that was definitely fear in the hard edges around the Druid’s carelessly happy expression. “Chulatt and Red started freaking out,” Keith answered honestly. “What the hell happened?”

The smile on Lance’s face thinned until it was more of a grimace. “I… I’m not sure,” he answered, the fear glittering briefly in his eyes.

He sat back on the shower floor and began rubbing a bar of soap through his hair until it was full of suds and stuck out in odd directions. It was kind of adorable. Then Lance arched his body, leaning back so his soapy hair hung in a stream of hot water and Keith caught himself staring again.

Damn, this wasn’t fair.

Wait.

“You’re doing this on purpose,” Keith grumbled, using all of his self-control to look _at Lance’s face only_.

Lance grinned, lifted his head out of the stream of water, and _winked._ The bastard. …sexy bastard.

“This is serious, Lance,” Keith said. Do not look down. “What happened?” He glanced at Taavi who was scrubbing soap bubbles out of his hair far enough away to be out of earshot. “Is he alright?”

Lance’s amusement vanished. “I don’t know,” he said. “I really don’t. I don’t… remember.”

Keith stiffened. “Breeder?” he whispered.

Lance shook his head and sat up fully. “I don’t think so,” he said. “But I doubt it. If it had been a Breeder, then we probably wouldn’t still be here.”

Keith glared until Lance wilted.

“I promise you, Keith,” Lance said, his blue eyes pleading. “I really don’t remember.”

 He really didn’t. Patience yields focus. “Alright, fine,” Keith said, forcing himself to calm down. “Then what do you remember?”

“I remember seeing Taavi unconscious,” Lance began, flicking his gaze to his carefree brother. “Then it was like I blinked and I was suddenly standing in the showers with Taavi shaking me. I…” He bit his lip. “I don’t…”

With a reluctant sigh, Keith nodded. “Does _he_ know?” he asked, nodding to Taavi.

Lance shook his head. “I don’t think so,” he murmured. His wary blue eyes met Keith’s violet. “Keith,” he said softly, “don’t let me do anything I’ll regret.”

There was so much in that little statement, Keith didn’t even know where to begin. He nodded nonetheless. In doing so, he noticed the faint shadow of something dark and grim on the Druid’s throat. Was that…

Blue eyes sparkled uncomfortably in the soft lighting of the shower pod and Keith growled. It was. Someone had tried to strangle Lance, and then had the audacity to wipe the memory so no one could find them and make them _pay._

Unable to hold back, Keith reached out, keeping his movements slow and visible to Lance, and rested his hand against the darkening marks on that thin, fragile neck. The attacker had big hands, possibly bigger than Shiro’s. Keith frowned and brushed his thumb against the bruised skin.

Lifting his gaze to Lance’s clear blue, he deliberately slid his hand up so his palm rested on the curve of Lance’s jawline. He spread his fingers out so they pressed against Lance’s cheek and neck, the tips tangling in the Druid’s dark, damp hair. Blue eyes hooded and pink lips parted, but showed no sign of rejection.

Taking a chance, Keith brushed his thumb just shy of the blue, crescent scale at the corner of an ocean blue eye. He felt the shudder travel through Lance’s body, heard Lance’s breath hitch, and saw the way black pupils widened perceptibly. Those scales…

He was close, so very close. He wanted to be closer. He shifted, his knee moving between Lance’s legs as he leaned down to press his lips to Lance’s-

“Ew! Gross!”

Keith flinched back in shock. He’d _completely_ forgotten they weren’t alone. And Taavi was a _minor!_ A _naked_ minor. Holy-

“Uh, I’llwaitoutside!” he said, stumbling over his words in his hurry to get out of sight and not be a pervert. Judging from the way Chulatt was chittering on his shoulder -he’d forgotten about the mouse _too! Fuck!_ \- Keith was definitely blushing like an idiot.

Oh well. He had a bit to wait, no doubt. Might as well settle down and count his breathes until his erection went away.

He was still counting when Lance came out, clean, mostly dry, dressed, and with Taavi in his arms. He promptly had to start counting all over again.


	45. Blown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which several things are blown at different times, in different ways, to different results.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** I'm looking forward to y'all reactions to this chapter. I an a very pun-ishing person. ^_~ Here's a hint: check out the new rating for this fic.
> 
> If smut bothers y’all (no worries if it does), then stop reading when Lance says, “Don’t scream.” Everything after that isn’t imperative to understanding the story.

Pidge sat silently in her Lion’s cockpit and watched the Robeast stare sightlessly out at the xanthorium cluster belt. Come on. Come on. Miss us. Don’t see us. Don’t-

The Robeast jerked, turning towards the incoming ship that Ulaz said belonged to one of Prince Lotor’s people. The glowing purple eyes in the thing’s metal face shone and it opened its massive mouth. A beam of violet spread out from the mouth, drawing in everything it touched like a…

“Tractor beam,” Pidge gasped.

She watched in horror as the prince’s ship reeled sharply to the side in an effort to avoid the tractor beam. The Robeast followed the ship’s trajectory, but could not keep up the tractor beam. Its mouth closed and the ship used the reprieve to initiate what looked like a jump to hyperspeed. It didn’t get a chance to complete the jump.

A beam of blazing violet blasted straight at the small ship. The brilliance of the attack dazzled Pidge’s eyes forcing her to squint. The Green Lion rumbled sympathetically in her mind as the green paladin blinked away starbursts. She did not miss the sight of the Galra ship flying by in an uncontrollable roll that must’ve been vomit-inducing.

“What the hell?” she muttered.

The Galra Robeast was attacking a Galra ship? Lotor might be exiled but that couldn’t be a good enough reason to attack him or whoever was in that ship. Pidge gripped her controls, feeling her palms sweat. Normally, she would’ve been cheering infighting within the enemy’s ranks. But after hearing what Lance had to say about the Galra Empire, she wasn’t so sure.

She knew the Robeast was sent by the Emperor, Zarkon, and that Prince Lotor had been exiled. Or that’s what Ulaz had said. She wasn’t stupid. She knew the Robeast had been sent after Voltron. But seeing it abruptly change course and attack Lotor’s ship had caught her by surprise. Was this Lotor person hated by Zarkon just as much as Voltron?

Or maybe the Robeast hadn’t detected the Lions or the Castleship as long as they were hidden within the space-time pocket created by the Blade of Marmora base. She really hoped it was that option.

Still, watching that ship do its best to avoid the Robeast’s repeated attacks made her feel pathetic. That ship may belong to Lotor, but it had come from the planet Ulaz said served as a source of quintessence. She couldn’t help but wonder if that ship had noncombatants on board. She really hoped not.

A pinging sound suddenly filled her cockpit, startling her out of her thoughts. A distress signal. Lotor’s ship was sending out a distress signal. She didn’t like this. Voltron was supposed to help. Allura had said the paladins’ duty was to respond to any and all distress signals if at all possible. This was a distress signal.

“Shiro?” she called over a private line to the Black Lion. “Are you getting this?”

 _“I am,”_ Shiro replied.

He sounded grim over the audio only message. Opening a visual and audio message would risk either Lotor’s ship or the Robeast detecting them hiding here. But Pidge didn’t need to see her friend and leader’s face to know he was struggling to decide what to do with this situation too. So she waited.

 _“Pidge,”_ he said finally, _“how long can you keep the Green Lion cloaked?”_

Pidge checked her Lion’s reserve power and did a quick calculation in her head. “Maybe fifteen minutes,” she said. “If I start fighting, that time’ll shrink.”

 _“Understood,”_ Shiro said. _“See if you can sneak out and distract that Robeast. We’ll be right behind you. Stay cloaked for as long as you can. Let us know if your cloak is failing so we can give you a hand.”_

“10-4,” Pidge said.

Activating her cloak, she gripped her controls and flew the Green Lion out of the space-time pocket into normal space. Lotor’s ship was still desperately dodging the Robeast’s destructive beams, but just barely.

Pidge frowned in concentration. “Alright, girl. Let’s give this thing a serious fight.”

Green rumbled an agreement in her mind, obediently opening her mouth and firing a blue beam directly at the Robeast. It barely did any visible damage, but it did leave a scorch mark and knock the monstrosity far enough aside to miss Lotor’s ship by a good distance.

Immediately, the Robeast shut its mouth and turned to face where the Green Lion had been. It scanned the empty space, turning a full circle. Nothing. Pidge grinned viciously and pushed her controls full forward. The Green Lion bolted forward, slamming its front paws against the Robeast’s vulnerable underside and forcing it to fly straight into the nearest xanthorium cluster.

As it flew, the Robeast fired a beam of violet where the Green Lion had been. Too bad Pidge was already out of range and by Lotor’s ship. She watched as the Robeast touched the xanthorium cluster which promptly blew up. This caused a chain reaction resulting in the adjacent xanthorium clusters struck by flying debris to explode as well.

Woah.

Please be gone.

A beam of violet quickly filled her view screen. She just barely managed to dodge behind a xanthorium cluster which exploded because of course it would explode. Green beeped the initial warning of cloak failure.

Five minutes. Not long. But it had better be enough. She’d make it enough.

 _“Pidge?”_ Shiro called to her.

 _“Pidge,”_ the princess broke in. _“Do you need cover fire?”_

“Negative,” she reported. “I’m fine for now. Stay back. I’ll let you know when my cloak’s going to fail.”

 _“I really don’t like this,”_ Hunk muttered.

Pidge smiled despite the situation. She really did like her friends. But they weren’t important right now. Lotor’s ship was important. She opened a general hailing frequency and waited for a response. The low ding of an accepted hailing made her grin.

“I don’t know who you are,” she said before the Galra pilot could speak, “and quite frankly, I don’t care. I have a friend who told me you weren’t all bad. I’m going to trust that and offer you a truce. My team and I will cover you for as long as we can.”

She broke off to fire a few beams at the increasingly raging Robeast, infuriating it even further.

“If you have any backup coming,” she continued, “tell them to book it. If they can’t get here within the next few doboshes, then you need to get out of here and tell them to stay away. But if you think they’re close, we could use the backup.” She fired another blue beam from her Lion’s mouth and scraped her Lion’s claws across the Robeast’s burning violet eyes. “We have a saying where I’m from. The enemy of my enemy if my friend.”

No response. But that was all well and good. Pidge was high enough above the xanthorium cluster ring to see Lotor’s ship tip its wings. Well, what do you know. Who would’ve thought that was a universal acknowledgement signal.

Ending the communication with Lotor’s ship, she contacted her team. “Cloak’s about the fail, guys,” she said. “But I’ve got an idea.”

 _“On our way, Pidge,”_ the princess said.

 _“Please tell me the plan involves blowing that thing to smithereens,”_ Hunk said just as the Yellow Lion burst out of the space-time pocket followed closely by the Black Lion and the Castleship.

Pidge looked up at the Thaldycon system’s host star and grinned. “Anyone interested in deep fried Robeast?” she said.

The Green Lion roared furiously just as the alert beeped loudly in her cockpit. An instant later, a beam of purple destruction blasted past her view screen. Her cloak was gone. Yanking her Lion into a reckless flip, narrowly avoiding the attack, Pidge noticed another larger ship fall out of hyperspace.

 _“I think I might just take you up on that,”_ a new voice said. _“I’ve always wanted to cause some sanctioned havoc.”_

* * *

Keith stared up at the roiling clouds encompassing the shield protecting Yggdrasil from his place half on the deck and half on the pod floor. With this section of the home pod’s particle barrier lowered, Keith could rest his elbows and back on the interior floor and stretch out his legs on the deck. It was comfortable for the time being, but he’d already changed positions a good few times before.

He just couldn’t sleep. Something itched under his skin. Red wasn’t sleeping either and her steady, smoky presence swirled around the threads of his mind. It was reassuring to know he wasn’t the only one unnerved about this whole thing.

Vuana was a trap. For all its idyllic beauty, it was dangerous. Natural disasters, Breeders haunting the Frey settlement, Lance attacked… It irked him to no end. His instincts had screamed at him to stay awake and watch. They had been too insistent to ignore. The alert had ebbed somewhat since the sounds of wakefulness faded from Frey, but they hadn’t vanished.

The opposite actually. They had changed from a sharp screech to a low buzz that was much more unsettling and harder to ignore. Like a bug in his ear. Although some of that was probably from the subtle earthquakes he could almost feel from the volcano Surtr’s eruptions.

He couldn’t sleep with all that going on. So he lay awake, watched, and listened. The tree was so tall that, like the first night he’d consciously spent here, Frey was inside the storm. The hexagonal scales that made up the shield flickered like dim stars as they were battered by rain, wind, and waves.

He could hear the howling air, the dull rumble of the rain, and the subtle roar of the ocean far below. Together, they formed a soothing lullaby that had long since soothed the majority of the Vuana into an uneasy sleep. It was strange how hard it was to adapt to being back on a world that had set night and day times. Especially since the daylight didn’t last as long as he preferred.

Tomorrow might be the Vuana equinox, but Keith highly doubted it would matter that much in the grand scheme of things. Darja had spent almost the whole time Lance had been resting after acting as transport for the evacuees explaining Vuana customs, day and night differences, and cultural differences between the different sects of her people.

It had been fascinating and eye-opening. Ever since Keith saw the absent-minded way the warden Maake had treated her bare breasts, Keith had suspected the Vuana were a bit more open about what passed as acceptable in public. But then he saw Lance naked in the shower and the Druid hadn’t batted an eye and…

Count to ten. Slowly. Deep breath.

“Keith?”

Fuck.

Heaving a deep sigh, Keith hung his head back so he could see Lance upside down. Blue eyes flashed eerily in the darkness and it took a lot more self-control than Keith thought was even fair to not drool. Carefully wriggling free of his siblings, Lance crawled out of the round bed and across the floor to where Keith lounged.

When Lance reached him, Keith offered a faint smile that was met by a soft, almost delicate kiss. It was fleeting but warm and chaste. He mourned the loss of the Druid’s chapped lips when Lance pulled back enough to shift his body so he could sit next to Keith.

“It’s late,” Lance whispered. “Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“Why aren’t you?” Keith countered.

Lance lifted a single eyebrow and eyed him dubiously, obviously not impressed. Snorting, Keith returned his gaze to the shield glittering through Yggdrasil’s branches and the few new leaves.

“I can’t sleep,” he said with a sigh. “I’m too wired.”

“Wired?” Lance asked, testing the word thoughtfully. “What do you mean?”

He shifted so his bent legs pressed against Keith’s back, neck, and head. Damn those legs. Did Lance have any idea what he was doing?

Probably.

“Energized, I guess,” Keith said after a minute or so of contemplation. “I just can’t calm down. I feel like… Like I should be fighting. Red feels it too.”

Blue eyes drifted up to the shield above them. “I know what you mean,” he murmured. “Blue senses something off, but she doesn’t know what. Something about the water.” He frowned. “I think she’s sensing what Plaxum was hinting at. The water isn’t safe.”

Violet eyes turned to the Druid warily. “She didn’t mean that in general?” he asked. “I mean, I grew up in a desert mostly, so I don’t have much experience with the ocean back on Earth.”

“Earth?” Lance said, whipping his full attention to Keith abruptly. “Is that the name of your home planet?”

Keith hesitated, pressing his lips together. Then he sighed and shrugged. What the heck. “Yeah,” he admitted. “That’s what we call it. There’re a lot of us -Humans, I mean- and we’re all different. My mo… My parents moved to Texas when I was little. My Dad was in the military when he met my mom in Japan.”

He huffed a soft laugh. “I barely remember her, but I remember she loved the sea,” he continued. “I always wanted to see it. She promised she’d take me one day when it was clear so we could all watch the sun set over the ocean and maybe see a green flash or something.”

“What happened?” Lance murmured, his blue eyes soft and sad.

Keith swallowed over the lump in his throat, refusing to look away from the shield. He could feel his eyes burning and his lips threatening to quiver. It had been years, but the pain never went away. He hated the pain and the sadness, but he was terrified of the day he no longer felt that. What would it say about him if he no longer felt sadness for his parents’ loss? What kind of person would he be?

Clearing his throat to cover a shaky breath. “There, uh, was an accident,” he said, his voice barely audible over the storm pounding the shield. “We were driving home from something, I don’t really remember. I think we went out to eat at a Whataburger or something, but anyway…” He licked his lips and sighed, sinking so his shoulders pressed close to his ears. “It was raining and some guy crossed the double yellow line. Dad tried to swerve to avoid him, but we got clipped and the car flipped.”

His stomach ached and his throat burned. “I got out. Mom almost made it, but the ambulance was delayed by the weather and bad traffic. Dad died on impact.”

A gentle hand rested on his head, weaving through the black strands of his hair in a slow, soothing motion. He wouldn’t cry. He would not cry.

Lips pressed against his cheek and he felt is skin begin to warm. Then something smooth and cool brushed his cheek close to the corner of his eye and he stiffened. Sensations that were almost words spilled over into his mind like a trickling spring.

_:Safe. Sooth. Rest. Friend.:_

That… Lance’s scale. Startled, Keith held perfectly still as Lance nuzzled him, sending foreign emotions into him.

“I’m sorry,” the Druid whispered close to his ear. “I wish I could ease your pain.”

When he could somewhat trust his voice to not waver, much, Keith spoke. “Is that what those… scales do?” he asked. “You’re a… touch telepath?”

Lance hummed. “Our scales allow us to send and received thoughts or emotions,” he said carefully. “Between Vuana, it’s a sign of trust.”

“And between someone who isn’t Vuana?” Keith asked, glancing up at Lance.

The Druid sat back and studied him in the dim, stormy light. Lightning flashed and thunder rumbled outside the shield but neither broke eye contact. For a brief moment, Keith wondered if he’d gone too far and accidentally stumbled headlong into a taboo of some sort. Gearing up to apologize, Keith opened his mouth-

-only to feel lips pressed against his own. Surprised but not the least bit annoyed, Keith kissed back. Hesitantly, Lance pushed his tongue into Keith’s mouth. Pleased, the red paladin hummed and rested his weight on one arm so he could reach up with his other and tangle his fingers in Lance’s short brown hair. Lance sighed into the kiss and leaned heavily against Keith.

Pressing his own tongue against Lance’s, Keith thrust into the Druid’s mouth eliciting a sharp gasped. But Lance didn’t pull back, just eased his mouth open wider and tilted his head to deepen the kiss further. Cool smoothness brushed Keith’s inner wrist and Lance started, whimpering slightly. However, instead of breaking the kiss, Lance leaned closer until he was practically sprawled on the red paladin’s chest.

This was getting slightly uncomfortable. Lance probably felt that through the connection to his scale and broke the kiss, much to Keith’s dismay. Particularly since Keith had that… um, pressing problem once again.

Blue eyes widened, and Lance quickly looked back and down, directly at Keith’s crotch. How did…? Damn, his wrist was still pressing against Lance’s scale. Face burning, Keith attempted to sit up and fold his legs to hide his erection. Talk about bad timing.

“You…” Lance looked back at Keith’s face with wide eyes and a faint flush in his cheeks. “You want me?” he whispered, awe in his soft voice. “Now?”

What kind of question is that? Keith wanted Lance most of the time. And damn it, his wrist was still touching the Druid’s scale and Lance got all of that because now his tan cheeks were several shades darker than before.

Before Keith could pull his hand away from the telepathic scale that was betraying every emotion and thought he had, Lance slapped his own hand over Keith’s and pressed. Blue eyes were dark and gleamed with an unholy light in the darkness and a warmth and longing that wasn’t Keith’s flowed into him.

Oh. Oh, fuck that was hot. Lance wanted him too. Swallowing over a suddenly very dry throat, Keith stared up at the Druid’s eyes in shock. Well, if they were both into it, he was down. Although, maybe not with the kids within earshot.

A thin eyebrow arched elegantly up to Lance’s hairline above a teasing grin. That… could mean so many things. Preferably good things. Like maybe involving R-rated type of content. Confusion flashed briefly across Lance’s features, followed quickly by comprehension and heated amusement.

Keith’s erection twitched and that was not just his own arousal. Fuck. Yeah. That. He wanted to fuck Lance into the floor. Blue eyes hooded with heady arousal as Lance began brushing his fingers teasingly light across the top of Keith’s hand still pressed against his scale. Then Keith’s hand was pulled free of brown locks, sliding over the gleaming scale in a way that made Lance’s breath stutter and sent flashes of arousal sloshing into Keith’s mind. Then Lance’s mouth closed over two of Keith’s fingers and-

“Aw fuck.”

Lance suckled the fingers, purring and holding Keith’s violet gaze hungrily. That was too hot. It should be illegal. No, scratch that. It should be illegal for everyone but Keith. The Druid’s mouth was hot and wet and _sucking_ and Keith could only imagine what it would feel like to have that mouth around his dick holy shit.

Quiet chuckles bubbled from Lance’s warm mouth and Keith briefly wondered why. Scale. Still touching it. Fuck. No. Fuck. Yeah. That’s what he wanted. He wanted to fuck Lance’s face then finish the Druid himself.

This time, Lance did pulled back, eyes wide in shock. For a terrifying moment, Keith thought he’d gone too far. Then he had a mouthful of Druid and no, apparently he didn’t and no, he was not complaining. Not in the slightest.

“Don’t scream,” Lance whispered, his lips brushing Keith’s as he spoke.

Keith did his absolute best not to shiver. “They’ll hear us,” he breathed, barely able to make sound pass his lips.

Lance chuckled. “Only if you scream,” he teased and _winked._

Keith was screwed and he wasn’t the least bit sorry.

“Relax,” Lance murmured, pressing another lingering kiss on Keith’s lips.

Obediently, Keith braced his elbows and forearms on the pod floor and allowed his body to sink so his bottom and legs pressed against the deck. He let his eyelids droop shut as Lance’s warm, chapped lips drifted away from his mouth, down his jaw to his neck, and then his collar bone. His night shirt was just as thin as Lance’s but it didn’t show as much skin on his chest as the Druid’s.

That was probably why Lance placed a single kiss to his collar bone, teeth teasing his skin, before leaning back and scooting down to press his face into Keith’s crotch. Keith pressed his lips shut because Lance was _nuzzling_ him and it felt so good but not enough. He didn’t want to scream so much as just groan when Lance mouthed him through his pants.

Why the hell hadn’t he changed out of his regular Vuana pants to his night pants? That would’ve made this so much easier. Thank heavens Lance was quick with his hands. Keith barely had time to react before his belt was undone and that gloriously hot mouth closed around his dick just like he wanted. He didn’t scream, but his breathing hitched.

He could _feel_ Lance laugh around him and deliberately thrust up deeper into the Druid’s mouth as punishment. The startled whimper was quiet and needy and Keith wanted more of that. Fuck not screaming. He didn’t have to. He may be the one getting a blowjob, but that didn’t mean he was going to take this without some teasing of his own.

Allowing his back to lean more heavily against the ledge of the pod floor, he carefully scooted down forcing Lance to shift backwards too. Honestly, seeing the Druid kneeling between his legs, mouth shining with saliva before closing around his erection once more was so damn sexy it made Keith burn.

He worked his elbows free so only the pod ledge supported him and buried his hands in Lance’s soft brown hair. Lance hummed appreciatively, the vibrations making Keith’s legs quiver. The Druid would pay for that.

“Lance,” Keith managed, waiting until he could see blue eyes. “Don’t scream.”

Lance blinked in confusion which quickly became shocked arousal when Keith pressed his thumbs against both of those cool, blue scales and began moving his hips. Fuck sleep. Lance’s mouth was so much better.


	46. Communication

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Pidge is having fun causing some mayhem, Ulaz makes a decision that may be the death of him, and Lotor gives a warning that may or may not be welcome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** Just a few quick things. 
> 
> First off, a K-type dwarf star is a star that in the orange-red spectrum of light as opposed to our sun which (although a dwarf too) is yellow-white in color. K-type stars are also cooler as well as dimmer, but that tends to have a wider habitable zone than other stars. 
> 
> Second, if anyone's interested in the Robeast's fate at the hands of the star's corona (keeping in mind that the corona is hotter than the surface of the star), check out the sungrazer comets that zip past the sun. Particularly the one that was ripped apart and vaporized by the powerful forces from the sun when it got too close. Here's the link to the video of it courtesy of NASA and the European Space Agency's SOHO mission: https://www.space.com/33651-comet-death-dive-into-sun-video.html
> 
> Basically, it's not an easy death. Poor Prorok. I wonder what Lance'll think when he finds out about that.

Whoever was flying that larger ship, and it had to be one of Lotor’s guys considering how the smaller fight was sticking close to its hull, was an excellent pilot. Pidge would bet they could probably give Keith or even Shiro a run for their money. The ship itself was nimble and packed some serious firepower.

Speaking of, the ship’s ion canon fired another blast at the Robeast, sending it tumbling through space. The monster was damn near indestructible. At least Hunk had been able to rip the Robeast’s mechanical arms off with his Yellow Lion. That had cut down the monster’s capabilities somewhat. It only had its quite frankly obnoxiously huge mouth canon left, but it was wreaking havoc on their little team.

 _“Green Lion, you’re in firing range,”_ the stranger commanding the large Galra battleship said in a calm voice. No matter what situation the battleship found itself in, its commander’s calm tone had never wavered. It was slightly disturbing.

Nevertheless, Pidge swerved her Lion to the right and down, looping down to attempt a strike at the Robeast’s unprotected back. The huge pack on the squat Robeast’s back was most likely the power supply. But it could also be the… whatever the hell mixing pot the Robeast used to pull stuff in and convert it to enough power to fire back at Pidge and her team.

Was this Robeast created using quintessence? Was that way it was so hard to defeat? Was it even intelligent? …Had it been intelligent at one time?

It had glowing yellow eyes, a huge mouth with teeth -yes, big, sharp teeth- and were those thick metal things over the eyes supposed to be eyebrows? It definitely looked like it. So the Robeast had a face. And it looked suspiciously Galra. More than any of the previous two Robeasts did.

How were the Robeats made? Lance probably knew. Too bad he wasn’t here. The Voltron team and Lotor’s ships could use any insight the crazy Druid might have. Anything to defeat this ridiculous hunk of metal.

At least they were making some headway. An alert sounded in the Green Lion’s cockpit just as three small targets appeared on her view screen. They separated from the larger Galra battleship and darted to join the lone small fighter in fighting the Robeast.

Allies?

 _“Shiro, looks like we got backup,”_ Pidge heard Hunk say over the speaker.

 _“I see it,”_ the black paladin said, streaking up the Robeasts side and leaving a glowing slice in his wake. _“Don’t fire on the friendlies.”_

 _“I appreciate that,”_ the stranger said. _“I’d hate to die so young.”_

“You’re _in_ one of those?” Pidge gasped aloud.

The unknown person chuckled on the open channel. _“Why wouldn’t I be?”_ he asked. _“This is too much fun to pass up.”_

 _“You can say that again,”_ another new voice, this one female, shouted. More like whooped, but hey, who was Pidge to judge.

In fact, the presence of another woman thrilled the green paladin to no end. She grinned viciously and pushed the Green Lion into a tight spiral around another purple beam from the Robeast.

“We girls gotta stick together,” she said. “Hey Hunk! Catch!”

_“What? What?! Pidge, what the-”_

Pidge watched laughing as the Yellow Lion predictably dodged the tumbling Robeast, firing a blue beam after it, pushing it further through space.

 _“Pidge,”_ the yellow paladin said, breathing hard. _“That was not funny. Not. Funny.”_

The unknown female snorted. _“I thought it was hilarious,”_ she said.

The unknown man sighed much like Shiro did when he caught Pidge or one of the other in the middle of doing something stupid. Hunk had dubbed it Shiro’s Space Dad Sigh. The fact someone else could make the exact same sigh was beyond amazing.

 _“Don’t encourage her,”_ the unknown man groaned. _“She’s too trigger happy as it is.”_

_“Not like that’s a problem at the moment, sir.”_

And oh _hell_ yes, another woman on the battlefield. Pidge never felt so empowered in her life.

They were close enough to the Thaldycon system’s host star now that the Green Lion had raised solar shields over the main view screen so Pidge could still clearly. The star was bright, but not as bright as the Sun. It was a dimmer star, probably a K-type dwarf. Its light shaded the Green Lion’s cockpit an odd shade of light to mid-range orange, almost like the beginnings of a sunset.

Pidge hoped forcing the Robeast into the orange star’s corona would be enough to destroy it without causing harm to her team or the inhabited planet Ulaz had been observing. Speaking of Ulaz, he’d been suspiciously silent throughout this whole mess. Although the team could probably use Ulaz’s help, Pidge wasn’ sure it would be a good idea to reveal the Blade of Marmora’s base.

Truce or no truce.

* * *

Ulaz fought the urge to send a message to Shiro asking if he and his team needed assistance. He didn’t want to risk distracting Voltron. That didn’t stop him from recording the battle. Never in all his years had Ulaz never seen Prince Lotor assist anyone fight against the Galra Empire.

But then again, this didn’t really count as fighting against the Galra Empire proper so much as fighting against Emperor Zarkon. Be that as it may, Ulaz couldn’t help but be impressed. Lotor’s personal command ship was definitely more maneuverable than the Empire’s battlecruisers.

No doubt the prince had brought along his generals. In fact, unless Ulaz was gravely mistaken, he would bet those three fighters, including the ship that originated on that planet, were piloted by Lotor’s generals. Perhaps even Lotor himself.

Unfortunately, the Blade of Marmora didn’t have much up to date information on Prince Lotor. The half-Galra prince had done his best to stay out of the intricacies of the Emperor’s politics, even though Ulaz knew the prince had spies throughout the empire. It would be stupid and possibly even deadly if the prince didn’t at least stay aware of the current political ocean. Assassination may not be honorable, but it was disgusting how often the Emperor… overlooked mysterious accidents.

Many of which had involved members of the Blade of Marmora. Sometimes certain commanders simply needed to be removed from service. Permanently.

That one of Lotor’s generals was here, in the Thaldycon system of all places, at this moment was suspicious. Prince Lotor’s swift appearance after his general activated a distress signal wasn’t a surprise, but it did make Ulaz’s position in the hidden base vulnerable. Ulaz’s instincts screamed at him to deactivate the gravity generator and escape while Lotor was distracted.

But another part of him told him to wait. Observe. Report.

That planet… Whatever was on it was apparently important enough to earn Prince Lotor’s attention. The Blade _needed_ someone to get down there and investigate and _come back. Alive._ Ulaz gripped the console in front of him. The Blade _needed_ the information from someone who _lived_ long enough to tell about it.

Determined, Ulaz sent a message to Blade’s headquarters.

 _“Identify yourself,”_ an unfeeling mechanical voice commanded.

“Ulaz, stationed at Communications Base Thaldycon, requesting permission for a direct channel to command. It’s urgent.”

Two ticks. Three. Four.

 _“Confirmed,”_ the mechanical voice intoned.

An tick later, the familiar black and purple mask worn by every active Blade of Marmora appeared on his screen. _“State your purpose.”_

Kolivan. Good.

“Prince Lotor is here,” Ulaz said without preamble.

 _“What?”_ The shock was audible in Kolivan’s voice and visible in the Blade leader’s flinch. _“Explain.”_

“I am unsure of his purpose,” Ulaz admitted reluctantly, glancing at the battle continuing on a side screen. “But he is currently aiding Voltron defeat one of the Druid’s monstrosities. The paladin of the Green Lion offered one of his generals a truce and he appears to be holding to it.”

Kolivan’s mask hid the leader’s expression, but Ulaz waited patiently for his leader to speak nonetheless. Lotor never made a move without thorough consideration for every outcome. His presence here raised several disturbing questions.

 _“Why is the Druid’s latest creation there?”_ Kolivan finally asked. _“We’re they tracked?”_

“Unfortunately, it would appear so,” Ulaz said, glancing at the battle once more when a bright flash distracted him. “However, the integrity of the base remains. Sir, one of Lotor’s generals was on the planet’s surface. And returned. Alive.”

Another flinch, this time barely visible. Ulaz would have completely missed it had he not been looking for it.

“Sir, I request permission to go to the planet’s surface,” Ulaz said.

Kolivan was silent.

Ulaz tilted his head down in respect. “Sir,” he said, “you and I both know we need to find the source of this quintessence supply line. The other lines could be tracked or discovered through hacking. This is the only supply line that has been _erased_ from the official records. If Zarkon himself is invested in this planet, we need to know _why._ ”

Kolivan hesitated.

“Knowledge or death, sir,” Ulaz said.

Reluctantly, Kolivan nodded. _“Very well,”_ he said, voice low and grim. _“You have permission. Retrieve the information and get out. Do not engage unless pressed. As you said, we need this information.”_

“Yes sir.”

 _“I will send someone to fill your position during your absence. Do not leave until your replacement arrives,”_ Kolivan continued. _“Remember, Ulaz. Infiltrate and observe **only.** ”_

Ulaz nodded. “Yes sir. For the Blade,” he declared, saluting Kolivan. His leader returned the salute just before the channel closed.

It was with a heavy sigh that Ulaz returned his attention to the battle. It was with vindictive joy that he watched that accursed, Druid-made monster get caught in a solar flare form the Thaldycon host star and be utterly destroyed. It was with fascination that he watched Prince Lotor’s ships not turn around and fire on the Voltron Lions or the Castleship.

And it was with resignation, that his gaze slid to the innocuous planet that had claimed the lies of three different Blades as well as any number of lives simply by existing. There was a high chance he wouldn’t survive this mission. But he would be quiznaked if he died without retrieving the information the Blade of Marmora desperately needed.

* * *

_“Oh yeah! Burn, baby, burn!”_

What…? No. Ignore the Green Lion’s pilot. Haggar’s beast had been destroyed -rather spectacularly, in fact- and _that_ is what mattered. He never did appreciate those things like his father did. Weapons like that should be reserved for times when they were _needed_ , not thrown around like the standard issue rifles.

Perhaps that was a bit over the top. He may not like her, but Haggar knew what she was doing and her advice was dependable. She knew the speed at which her Druids could construct the beasts, extract the required quintessence from the willing host, and send the Beast where it was _needed._ The only reason he could think of why Haggar would be so reckless as to send one of her precious creations out here and the sic it on one of his own generals, was that his father had commanded it.

Haggar was a power Druid, but she had the fatal flaw of worshiping the ground the Emperor walked on. He’d seen it often enough when he was younger. Reports from his agents and generals -Ezor in particular- said she still did.

Despicable.

She was closest to the Emperor. Couldn’t she tell Zarkon was insane? Obsessed with retrieving his mythical Black Lion and recreating the weapon of mass destruction Voltron for his won purposes?

Not so mythical anymore, apparently. Lotor eyed the enormous Black Lion hovering in space between the Green and Yellow Lions. Frak, why by the Encompassing Universe did Voltron have to come back? _Why?_

 “Does the truce still hold?” he said in a firm voice.

 _“Truce?”_ the woman piloting the white Castle of Lions said. Odd. She sounded suspicious. Did she not know.

 _“It does,”_ the pilot of the Green Lion declared.

Lotor studied the Green Lion through his view screens. The giant machine turned easily to face the prince’s command vessel, its tail swishing behind it. So, the paladin though Lotor was still on his ship. Fascinating.

 _“Thanks for the help,”_ the green paladin continued. _“Is there anything we can do?”_

Lotor blinked curiously. “How do you mean?” he asked.

_“One of your ships was attacked by the Robeast._

“Robeast?” he parroted, feeling out the odd word.

 _“Robot beast,”_ the paladin of the Yellow Lion said. _“Robeast is just easier to say.”_

Lotor hummed thoughtfully. Well, the paladin wasn’t wrong.

“I see,” he said.

He opened a private channel to Narti’s vessel and waited for his general’s face to appear on his secondary view screen. When it did, he frowned. This particular general was not a stickler for appearance considering she was blind, but she did try to be presentable. The woman he saw now was haggard and dripping wet.

“Narti,” he said warily, “are you alright?”

The silent general shivered but nodded just as her cat Kova hopped onto her shoulder, its yellow-green eyes regarding him passively. Lotor’s frown deepened.

“You look miserable,” he said simply. “Go back to the ship and dry yourself off. I need you alive and healthy when you submit your full report.”

Narti nodded once more and ended the call. Lotor made sure Narti’s ship began heading for his command vessel before returning his attention to the Voltron paladins.

“It would appear she is well,” he said through the open channel to everyone present. “Your assistance is appreciated.”

 _“May I assume you are Prince Lotor,”_ the pilot of the Castleship said. Was that disgust dripping from the speaker?

“You may,” Lotor declared, smirking. “I see my reputation proceeds me. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance paladins of Voltron. Though, I must say, I was expecting five Lions. Not three. No offense to your piloting skills, of course.”

_“Of course.”_

Goodness. If the disgust and sarcasm kept spilling from his speakers, his cockpit would flood. He chuckled wryly. Good thing he could hold his breath.

“My dear lady, there is no need for such enthusiasm,” he teased, a sharp grin dancing across his lips. “I assure you, I mean you no harm. Yet.”

_“Is that a threat?”_

_“It sounded like a threat.”_

“It was, paladin of the Yellow Lion,” Lotor said simply. “The Thaldycon system is both quiet and insignificant in the Galra Empire. I admit, I find your presence here questionable. Would your efforts not be better served in more active systems? I hear Taujeer is lovely this time of deca-phoeb.”

 _"Taujeer?"_ the yellow paladin repeated curiously.

 _“And yet you’re here,”_ the Castleship’s pilot said.

“Indeed. My general was forced to land on a habitable planet to repair her ship.” Among other things. “We were already en-route when received her distress call.”

_“How convenient.”_

The woman’s voice cut off abruptly, as if she’d been interrupted. No doubt from one of the Lions’ paladins. Hopefully they were attempting to soothe that blazing temper, of hers. A truce this may be, but push too far and truces could be broken with no honor lost.

 _“That pilot of yours,”_ -ah, the green paladin- _“she’s a girl?”_

 _“She is a woman,”_ Acxa said.

Lotor chuckled. He could just see the frustrated frown on his general’s face in his mind.

_“That’s so cool!”_

_“Cool?”_

Oh dear.

_“She is not cold!”_

“Zethrid, please,” Lotor said, adjusting his grip on his control and moving his ship up so it hovered between his command ship’s line of fire and the Green Lion.

_“But sir!”_

“I have a feeling we are having a miscommunication,” Lotor said in a calm, even tone.

 _“Um, I’m confused,”_ the yellow paladin said, shaking the Yellow Lion’s head in a facsimile of bewilderment.

_“We meant no offense.”_

“Ah, it speaks,” Lotor said, turning his attention to the looming Black Lion. “Greetings, paladin of the Black Lion. A quick word of advice for any future truces you and your team may wish to hold.”

 _“I’m listening,”_ the black paladin said.

“Good,” Lotor said, running a few quick scans of the massive Black Lion as he spoke. “Already you and the paladin of the Green Lion are doing better than your leader.”

_“Excuse-!”_

“I’m not finished,” the prince said sharply. A quickly tapped out code and both Ezor and Acxa were on their way back to his command ship. “Truces can only be held when there is honor on all sides involved. Insults and threats are tolerable, but they do wear down one’s patience.”

Ezor’s high-pitched chuckles may or may not have been in his head. Just to be sure, Lotor checked his ship. A flashing yellow light indicating a private, audio only channel had been opened between his ship and Ezor’s He rolled his eyes. The snoop. Oh well. He would deal with it later.

“I highly suggest you reign in your leader’s attitude,” he continued, maintaining a steady position between the Lions and his command vessel. “Should you attempt to hold a truce with a… shall we say less than honorable member of the Galra Empire, they may declare rightful insult and end the truce without warning. And considering the current powers that be in the Empire, that person would get away with it.”

Silence.

 _“We’ll take that into consideration,”_ the black paladin said, his voice grim over the speakers.

“I certainly hope so, Champion,” Lotor said. “For your sake more so than mine.”

Without waiting for a response, the prince closed the channel and veered his ship around to fly back to his command ship’s hanger. Zethrid would be sure to open a hyperspeed window the moment she was sure he was securely on board.

He would give Narti a chance to freshen up and warm herself under a heat lamp before ordering her to report. From the looks of it, she’d had a rather interesting adventure on the Druid’s home world.


	47. Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lance loves mornings but not waking up in the morning, Keith is mortified and exhilarated, and Pidge is so ready for this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** Ok, so I wrote most of this at a local Panera because our router's broken. I know, perfect timing right? Anywho, I'll be going to Grandother's tomorrow and she _does_ have a working router. So yay, Internet again! I'll do my best to update tomorrow and Christmas Day, but chances are the next update will be completed on the day after Christmas. I'm sure y'all understand. 
> 
> That said, I hope y'all don't mind this chapter too much. Smut lovers don't have that much longer to wait. Who knows. I might just post that as a Christmas present. We'll see~ Until then, enjoy!

Lance woke slowly. He was comfortable and warm and surrounded by strength and heat. He didn’t want to open his eyes, but the faint, haunting sound of a shell horn urged him to rouse. When he opened his eyes, he was met by a firm chest covered by a soft night shirt. Fingers tangled in his hair, resting still and heavy and warm against his scalp. Another arm wrapped around his back, fingers gripping his own night shirt.

Keith.

For some reason he didn’t fully understand, just that the red paladin’s name soothed him. For the first time in a long time, Lance felt safe. Nestled in Keith’s arms, resting on the red paladin’s firm chest, and sprawled out between Keith’s legs… Warm. Safe.

A heavy fog had settled over the Frey settlement from the cool, damp air filtering through Yggdrasil’s shield. He could still hear the faint howling of the wind and rumble of the rain pounding the shield from the storm. Aside from the distant shell horn, everything was calm and still.

He let his eyelids droop shut, nuzzling his head so his eye scale brushed Keith’s collar bone.

_:Sleep. Tired. Warm. Lance?:_

The hand resting on his back pressed him closer and the fingers in his hair tightened briefly before scratching his scalp gently. Lance shifted, tugging his legs up so they curled closer to him. The move made his body slide against Keith’s in such a way it made him hum. It wasn’t the tingling pleasure of last night, but it could be. If they felt like pushing it.

They didn’t. Lance could feel it through his scale. Keith was still tired and Lance didn’t blame him. It was still early, after all. They must have fallen asleep much later in the night than he first thought. It felt like they hadn’t slept for more than a few vargas. Lance did not want to get up yet.

Unfortunately, the twin weights that suddenly landed on his back and crushed his body into Keith’s made that impossible. He coughed, whining breathlessly when the hand in his hair tightened. Beneath his ear, he could hear the red paladin’s heart pound and the chest deep growl of shocked pain.

“Get up! Get up!”

“Alve,” Lance whined, deliberately squeezing his eyes shut.

“Come on!” Ran’s laughing voice said at the same time a small hand smacked him. “We gotta get dressed.”

Lance snorted but reluctantly pushed himself up, mostly so Keith could use the chance to catch his breath.

“Don’t want to,” he grumbled.

“Who cares,” Alve said, sliding off Lance’s back and nabbing his hand before he could yank it out of her reach. “Come on!”

And that was the last clear thought Lance had before he was swamped in a mess of blankets, shirts, pants, skirts, and sashes. Even Chulatt was helping. When he wasn't getting tangled up in the fabric, that is. Tired though he was, his siblings’ excitement and Chulatt's enthusiasm were infectious. Darja took charge of Taavi’s outfit while Lance helped Alve and Ran pick out their outfits. He made sure to tease them more than usual as punishment for his less than graceful awakening.

“Um.”

Startled, Lance looked up from braiding Alve’s hair at the thoroughly bewildered expression on Keith’s face. He grinned when he made contact with those burning violet eyes, chuckling when he noticed the beginnings of a blush dance across Keith’s cheeks.

“Yes?” he said in a sing-song tone.

Keith rubbed his chest gingerly as he crossed his legs to sit in a more comfortable position. “I don’t… Um, I don’t really have anything else to wear,” he said. "Is that okay?"

Immediately, all motion in the pod home came to a halt. Oh dear. Lance had forgotten about that. Oh well. Not a problem. Wasn’t it such a good thing that Keith was here, in Lance’s home pod, with Darja’s sharp eye for fashion, Alve and Ran’s pentient for mischief, Taavi’s need to poke anything, Chulatt's devious mind games, and Lance’s overwhelming need to _touch_ that frelling perfect body. Thoroughly.

_:Lance. Laugh.:_

But not here, in front of everyone, Lance corrected himself, ignoring Chulatt's intrusive thoughts. Lance had scruples, after all. He would wait until the lanterns were lit, the fires blazed, and the celebrants were efficiently distracted. Then he would spirit Keith away to the globes in the upper branches and have his way with him for as long as they were both able.

The Oceanborne would be everywhere and watchful tonight for any stray Breeders who would dare disrupt the Osvara Equinox Festival. Besides, chances were, the Breeders would probably be too busy guarding the Purebloods during the dusk fertility rites to be distracted by vanishing those with desirable genes. Yes. Best to keep the innocent red paladin away from that particular part of the quintant’s festivities.

“Get over here,” Darja commanded Keith, pointing imperiously at the bed where they all sat. She waited until Keith had scooted onto the mattress, surreptitiously rubbing his no doubt aching back as he did so, before speaking once more. “Now, first we need to determine what color you’ll wear. Taavi, what do you-”

“Red,” Lance said quickly, cutting his sister off. “Trust me.” He glanced at Darja’s glinting black eyes briefly before returning his attention to Keith. “He’s definitely a red.”

Darja considered those words for a tick before grinning. It was not a friendly grin. Oh ‘Verse, what had he done.

“Red it is then,” she declared. “Ran, go get some of red clothes please. Keith, stay right there.”

The way she said it made Lance snicker. Keith, however, did not look comfortable. At all. He sat there, glancing at Lance in barely concealed horror before submitting to Lance’s family’s influence.

* * *

“I feel like I should be wearing more clothes,” Keith grumbled, picking at the thin silk-like fabric that draped over his shoulders.

The faded red shirt was open in the front with rough, loose threads woven through holes kept it from spilling open. At least the sleeves weren’t belled out around the wrists like Lance’s were. The sleeves weren’t tight, but they didn’t sway with his every move.  His dark red pants were a decent tightness allowing him to move freely should he need to fight for whatever reason. His shoes though… Or lack thereof, to be precise, made his feet feel every breeze that brushed his toes. It was a cool breeze.

At least everyone else was barefoot too. It must be part of the festival. Lance’s sapphire pants swished softly like a gentle surf on the shore, just barely covering his tan feet. They were tight around his ass -and yes, that was a fine ass, who’s asking?- before loosening the closer to his feet they got.

The Druid’s tunic was the shade of a sunlit ocean that faded to a deep sapphire at the hem. The fabric fell longer on his left side, extending to just below his knee, and barely passed his hip on the right. It was a tight fit around his torso, held up by white strap that looped Lance’s bare shoulders. The long, loose sleeves weren’t quite long enough to billow, but they definitely flowed and rippled like waves on the sea.

A silver threaded white sash was cinched tightly around his waist, keeping the blue fabric restrained. Lance’s hood was the same silver threaded white as his sash and fell to the thick hem of his shirt that crossed his shoulder blades just above the faintly glowing tattoo scrawled on his back.

Lance glanced over his shoulder at the flustered paladin who had _not_ been looking at his very fine ass and laughed merrily. “If you’re patient, I could help you with that later tonight,” he teased, winking at Keith playfully.

He managed to roll his eyes in an attempt to hide his blush, but he doubted he succeeded if Darja’s not so polite snort was any indication. She still hadn’t punished him or Lance for using curse words in front of the children and Keith was… wary of her. To put it lightly. He didn’t know Darja all that well, but he knew Lance. Since Darja was Lance’s little sister, Keith wouldn’t put it past her to not so accidentally walk in on him and Lance while they were… er, busy.

Hopefully they would be busy.

Fuck just thinking about what Lance had implied for tonight’s plans was making him hot under the collar. If Lance in bed was anything like his hot, wet mouth had been last night, then Keith might just die of arousal.

Breathe. Count to ten. Do _not_ look at that ass. Later. Save it for later.

He cleared his throat. “So,” he said, “what exactly happens during this festival thing?”

“We party all day and all night,” Lance crowed, stretching his arms up to the sky and arching his back with what must have been a satisfying pop.

Darja rolled her eyes. “What he means,” she paused to scoop Taavi up into her arms, bouncing him on her bare hip, “is that we do no work except for what is required for day to day life and spend our time with our people.”

“There’s music!” Alve crowed, spinning around so she walked backward down the path. How did she not trip over anything? Her orange and white dress included? “And dancing and food!”

“That’s my favorite part,” Ran said, picking at his white and yellow clothes.

“I like the stories,” Taavi said, smiling happily and playing with Darja’s long, plaited black hair slung over her shoulder.

“They tell stories?” Keith asked the youngest.

Taavi nodded to Darja’s motherly amusement. “The Oceanborne tell the best stories,” he said. “They have Myr in the.”

“He loves the Myr,” Darja said, pressing a gentle kiss to the youngest’s cheek.

Dressed in a pale purple crop top and long skirt of the same color and thin fabric, Darja looked less like an elder sister and more like the young woman she was. If Keith hadn’t been interested in men only, he probably would have been drooling. He could still say with certainty that she was beautiful.

Still, he glanced quickly at the numerous slits in the skirt that stretched from the wide belt all the way to the hem at her ankles, and just as quickly averted his eyes. Honestly, the way everyone that he could see in Frey was dressed, Keith was beginning to wonder if this was a…

Oh god. It wasn’t, was it? Please say it wasn’t. Keith swore, if this was a fertility festival, he was going to die. If Pidge _ever_ found out he’d gone to a fertility festival, she would never let him live it down. Ever.

At least the children were completely dressed with very little skin showing. If this was a fertility festival -oh please, no- then the kids were probably too young to participate in the more adult events. Hopefully those events would take place in the evening and into the night. If Keith caught sight of someone fucking someone else, he might just die of too much blood rushing to his head.

“He’s old enough to get his first tattoo,” Lance said, pausing so Darja and Taavi could catch up to him. He made a show of poking Taavi’s cheek, much to the little boy’s vocal displeasure. “I wonder which Myr clan will claim you,” Lance said. “Maybe Plaxum will take a liking to you. Or Florona. You remember Florona?”

“The one with the bright red hair?” Taavi asked, his green eyes sparkling with joy. “She’s pretty.”

“Of course she is,” Alve said proudly. “She’s a Myr. All Myr are pretty. How else are they supposed to lure stupid people in?”

Keith tripped.

“By singing to them, stupid,” Ran said, nudging his sister with a sly grin.

Bright brown eyes glared at Ran over a dark scowl. “I am not stupid,” she said in a petulant voice.

“Only a stupid person would say that stupid,” Ran declared, crossing his arms with a victorious grin.

“Ran.”

Keith shivered. Wow, it got cold fast. With a gulp, he glanced warily over at Lance who currently wore a bright, friendly and very nonthreatening smile on his face.

“Don’t call your sister stupid,” Lance said.

Scary. Keith gulped. And so. Damn. Hot. And Lance _noticed!_ Fuck! Shit!

“U-uh, yeah,” he said quickly to cover his discomfort, “listen to your brother.” Especially when he gives orders.

…fuck.

And damn his luck. Of _course_ Lance noticed his blazing blush. The rumbling purr in his mind from Red sounded suspiciously like a snicker and now Chulatt was grinning at him and what the hell with all this Disney princess shit.

Speaking of, Lance stilled, his stormy blue eyes going wide and staring. First at Chulatt, then directly at Keith. Darja noticed Lance’s stunned expression and frowned, following her brother’s gaze to Keith. However, when she noticed the bright red spilling over the red paladin’s cheeks, she snorted -oh, so _that’s_ where Lance got it- and strolled right passed with a roll of her eyes.

“I will be  _so_ glad when you two finally get it out of your systems tonight,” she drawled. “I swear, if I have to wake up to squishy sounds again, I will cut you both where it matters most.”

And if that wasn’t scary, Keith was a Galra. At least Lance looked just as utterly terrified as Keith felt. Keith sighed, ignoring the Red Lion’s smoky snickering in the back of his mind. This may be a happy day for the Vuana, but it would be a very, _very_ long day for Keith.

“So this festival,” he said, looking anywhere _but_ Lance and rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, “it’s not a… I mean, what kind of celebration is this?”

Darja shot a sly grin over her shoulder that made Keith’s blood run cold. “I’ll let Alve and Ran explain it to you,” she said. “They’re old enough to do that now. Lance, step away from your charge and walk with me.”

Lance tensed. “But-”

“Now, Lance.”

The Druid shot a concerned look at Keith before obediently rushing to his sister’s side. Okay. _Now_ Keith was scared.

Alve grinned, her orange scales gleaming as innocently as her smile. Why was it that Keith just _knew_ the word ‘innocent’ had no business being associated with _anyone_ of Lance’s family? Tucking a strand of red-brown hair that escaped her tightly braided hair, Alve grabbed Ran’s hand and fell into step next to Keith.

“We have parties like these every five phoebs,” Alve said, enjoying her newfound position as teacher. “The biggest ones are at the beginning and end of the two seasons.”

“Two seasons?” Keith asked, taking Ran’s offered hand. “There are only two seasons here?”

“Yep,” Ran chirped. “Winter and Summer. Lance says other planets have more seasons, but that’s just weird.”

Keith huffed a laugh. “We have four where I’m from,” he said.

“Really?” Ran gasped, his gray eyes just as wide and amazed as Alve’s brown. “That’s gotta be so confusing.”

Alve nudged her brother with her shoulder. “It’s not that big a deal. He’s weird too,” she said, nodding to Keith.

Okay. Whatever.

“So is today the first day of Summer then?” he asked, attempting to steer the conversation back to the festival.

Both children nodded. “We just play all day,” Ran said. “Then the adults go away for the night so we can have fun.”

Oh. Crap.

“Do you have any idea what the adults… do at night?” Keith asked.

“Nope,” Ran said, shaking his head. “Alve does, but she never tells me.”

“You’ll know when you’re older,” the young girl said in her best impression of Darja.

“We’re the _same age!”_ Ran shouted.

“But I was born in the morning,” Alve said with a brilliant smile.

Ran fumed for several seconds before letting his shoulders droop in surrender. Then he popped back up and pointed to Keith. _“Keith’s_ an adult,” he declared. “Tell him!”

Alve blinked up at Keith thoughtfully, then back at her brother with narrowed eyes. Then she cackled. “Sneaky,” she said giggling.

Ran swung his sister’s hand wildly with a jubilant smile brightening his face.

“Fine,” Alve drawled, rolling her eyes. “I’ll tell you. It’s not that interesting anyway.”

Please don’t be what Keith thought it was. _Please_ don’t be what he thought it was.

“They just lay in bed and move around and make a lot of hurt noises,” Alve said, shrugging. “It was weird.”

Keith was so screwed. Not that he was really annoyed by that. As long as Pidge didn’t find out, he’d be fine. Besides, if this meant he got to taste a certain Druid’s ass tonight, then he was game.

Wait. Alve knew about… Holy _shit._ That means she’d _seen_ people have… Oh god…

* * *

Pidge sneezed suddenly and loudly. Ew. Shaking her head, she went back to preparing the Green Lion for launch. It had taken a lot of convincing on her part to get the princess to allow her to be the lead on this mission. Hunk, she knew would take her side, even though he didn’t like the idea of her going alone. Friends stuck with friends, after all. Hunk was just like that.

Pidge had _not_ been expecting Shiro to support her decision. But when he did, Pidge’s hopes had exploded, just like that Robeast did. The look on Allura’s face when the black paladin had taken Pidge’s side had been priceless too. If Pidge didn’t know better, she’d bet her last unopened bag of gummy worms that Allura had swallowed a live fish whole.

Heh. That would be a sight to see.

Anyway, Coran had made it clear that the scaultrite used to power the Castleship’s wormholes were reaching the point that replacements were needed ASAP. He’d suggested heading to an old Uni… Unoro… Uni-something place to trade for them. Since there was no need for all of the paladins to go and cause an uproar, it had been decided that Shiro and Hunk would accompany Allura and Coran to the Unu-whatever place while Pidge stayed here to help Ulaz.

Allura had not been happy about leaving Pidge alone with Ulaz. But Pidge was sure Allura’s displeasure had been less about leaving the green paladin alone and more about leaving Pidge alone with a Galra.

This whole vendetta Allura seemed to have against the Galra was rubbing Pidge all kinds of bad ways. It just screamed racist and rankled Pidge’s nerves. Strange. Not that long ago, Pidge had felt the same all-consuming hatred for the Galra for attacking, kidnapping, and torturing her family and Shiro. But ever since she’d met Lance, had _listened_ to Lance, she’d begun to force herself to consider other things.

Particularly that whole ‘only tried to kill Lance on the battlefield’ thing. If that was what really meant something to the Druid, then it made Pidge wonder who else had tried to kill him with the proverbial knife in the dark? Did Lance have family? Friends? Had they had people try to kill them off the battlefield before too?

“How goes the preparations?” Ulaz asked, stepping into the Green Lion’s cockpit behind her.

“Almost ready to go,” she answered, quickly double checking her calculations. “I should be able to get us to the planet’s surface while still cloaked without a problem though. But only if we do it in under fifteen min- er, doboshes.”

“Understood.” The Galra stooped as he slipped in between Pidge’s pilot seat and the left control panel, scanning the Lion’s view screens with interest. “I am curious, do all of the Lions of Voltron have cloaking capability?”

“Nope,” Pidge said, grinning proudly as she tinkered with the last couple setting. “Just Green. I was able to reconfigure the Green Lion’s natural defense mechanics to bend the light around it just so to-”

 _“You_ built it?” Ulaz gasped, turning his black and purple mask to Pidge. “Alone?”

“You betcha,” Pidge said, flashing the Blade of Marmora a thumbs up. “Ready when you are.”

She might not be able to see Ulaz’s facial expressions, but his body language was seriously loud. After a moment’s hesitation, Ulaz placed a hand on her shoulder and gripped it briefly before turning his attention to the view screen.

“On your mark,” he said.

That little show of encouragement really meant a lot more to Pidge than she thought it would. Warmth blossomed in her chest as she cheerfully activated the Green Lion’s main systems and gripped the controls. The main view screens came to life, glowing a soft green. Hanging dead center of the display was that ringed planet with the crazy weather.

“Then let’s get this show on the road,” she said, and pushed the Green Lion down towards the planet’s surface.


	48. Festival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Pidge and Ulaz experience a rough welcome from Vuana and Keith has an interesting run-in with a two people who creep him out in two different ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!
> 
> I meant to get this out late last night so y'all could wake up to it, but I wore myself out and fell asleep instead. Hopefully, this chapter going out now instead of past midnight like the usual will still count as my Christmas present to you. 
> 
> The smut is just a chapter or two away and will probably get its own chapter dedicated to it. You will see it coming, but just in case, I will warn at the beginning of the chapter in the **A/N**. I'll also change the rating for this to Explicit. Just fyi and, again, Merry Christmas.

This storm was wild. Like, Pidge knew what hurricanes were, she’d seem them on weather radars and weather forecast shows and even some aftermath images and videos. But experiencing it in person was _insane_. The Green Lion was designed to handle intense radiation, heavy and sudden impacts from both physical objects and energy blasts. But when faced with the friction of an atmosphere and gravity on top of insane weather, Green was struggling.

Green was the smallest of the Voltron Lions in comparable size but she was fast. The Red Lion might be the best of the team at speed and agility, but Green was no slacker. She could play defense like nobody’s business and that gave Pidge the edge she needed. With Green’s cloaking capability, Pidge had been able to sneak herself and anyone on board passed enemy lines for sabotage missions and wreak general mayhem whenever she got the chance.

This was going to be easy. Just as soon as she found some solid ground to land on.

On the bright side, the rain was beginning to let up, slightly. The wind was still buffeting Green’s flanks, but it was within the Lion’s tolerable working limits. Too bad Ulaz wasn’t enjoying the ride. Do _not_ laugh. Snickering was okay. Laughter was not.

The Blade of Marmora was leaning back against the side of the Green Lion’s cockpit looking distinctly, well, _green._ Pidge snorted.

“Careful there,” she teased. “You’ll make Green jealous.”

Ulaz lifted his hooded head up and stared at her through his black and purple mask. She could only image the incredulous expression on the Galra’s face.

Do _not_ laugh.

“I do not think I will ever understand your people,” Ulaz grumbled.

Pidge shrugged. “We’re crazy,” she said. “Accept that and the fact we like to come at a problem sideways and you should be good.”

Ulaz said nothing, but the way he shook his head spoke volumes.

Then a warning beeped in Green’s cockpit and Pidge immediately focused on the cause. There was very little readily visible through the Green Lion’s main view screens. But there was something beginning to interfere with the Green Lion’s signals. One by one, the scanners began to fritz every so slightly.

“Interference?” she muttered, using one hand to work through possible causes of the static disturbing the Green Lion’s scans.

“Is something wrong?” Ulaz asked, sitting straighter to get a better look over Pidge’s shoulder at the view screens and displays.

“Yeah,” Pidge said absently.

The displays and readouts flashing across the view screens were still mostly in Altean. She could read some of it, but it wasn’t easy. She really needed to work on a translation program that could keep up with the Lions’ messages.

“Something’s interfering with the Green Lion’s scanners,” she explained. “It’s not serious, but its causing some of the returns to be incomplete.”

Ulaz leaned closer. “Do you think it’s deliberate?”

“I don’t think so,” she said, shaking her head. “Actually,” she studied the last return she received closely, “I think I may have found the source.”

“What is it?” Ulaz asked.

“One sec.” Pidge enlarged the fuzzy return and paired it with the visual image. “I think it’s the ash from the volcano,” she said. “Its probably causing a buildup of static electricity. I’d be surprised if there wasn’t any lightning mixed in, either. Although,” she paused, biting her lip worriedly, “if this _is_ ash, then I’m not sure it’s a good idea to stay at this altitude. Ash and machines don’t mix. Well, ash and people don’t either. But right now, I’m more concerned about Green than you and me.”

Ulaz hummed. “Can the Green Lion move underwater?” he asked.

“I-” Oh. Now why didn’t she think of that? “I can give it a try,” she said.

She felt Green’s rumbling purr of approval and began her descent towards the angry ocean. She would have to be careful with the impact. Enough plane crashes in the past were proof enough of what could happen to machines when they met water fast and hard.

Something soft like moss worked its way through her senses, calming her and reassuring her. Green. Sticking her tongue out in concentration, she did exactly as the Green Lion told her to do. A couple minutes of careful maneuvering later, the Green Lion was submerged.

It was dark except for the twin beams of light shining from the Green Lion’s golden eyes. Pidge was careful as she piloted the Lion through the sea. The force of each wave still affected her trajectory, but at least she wasn’t completely blind from wind, rain, and ash. So long as the ash wasn’t floating in the ocean.

That would be hellish luck.

The Green Lion’s movements were slower under the water due to the increased mass needed to push aside. As long as there weren’t any Cthulu things down here, it shouldn’t be too much of a problem. Hopefully.

“Impressive,” Ulaz murmured.

“What can I say,” Pidge said, grinning proudly, “Green’s my girl.”

Green purred and Pidge had the distinct impression of soft fur nuzzling her cheek. It may not have been real, but it sure felt real. Green was so clever and smart and awesome and whooped butt. And if Pidge kept going, Green’s ego would blow through the proverbial roof. Not that that was a bad thing.

Huh. Not _that_ was interesting. Pidge tapped the strange glowing thing visible on the view screen, enlarging it and waiting for the resolution to sharpen.

“Woah,” he breathed, staring at the softly glowing structure. “What is that?”

“It appears to be a shield,” Ulaz said. “The design of the particle barrier is similar to your Castleship but I’m unfamiliar with the support structure.”

“Okay, so it’s not Galra,” Pidge murmured. That cleared out a few possibilities. “You did say this planet was inhabited. So maybe this is the capital or something. Considering that crazy weather and the fucking volcano, I’m not surprised they have a shield up.”

“Yes, but it will be difficult breaking through a shield,” Ulaz said, standing up at straight as his ridiculous height allowed in the Green Lion’s cockpit. “It would be best to disable a small section of the shield, if possible.”

Pidge nodded. “Right.”

Her brown eyes flicked across the view screen. Searching for any clear indications of a generator or transmitter or something that could be responsible for providing power to the shield. Those curved spikes rising from the ocean floor seemed to be the equivalent of branches supporting the threads of a spider web.

Huh. If she thought about it that way, then maybe she wouldn’t have to disable the whole spike. She glanced at Ulaz suspiciously.

“Hey,” she said slowly. “You wouldn’t happen to know how to swim, would you?”

Ulaz flinched. “I can if I have to,” he admitted. “But I would not survive long in rough water.”

Like this. Well, okay, this could be interesting.

* * *

The kids had been exaggerating when they said there would be a lot of food. There was food, but there wasn’t much. Well, not here anyway. Chulatt was making sure of that. Did the mouse just burp? What the…

Not that Keith was paying the food that much attention. Not with all of the Vuana dancing and talking and laughing and playing everywhere that he looked. Even Taavi was playing with some other Vuana children under the watchful eyes of several Druids.

One of the Druids was dressed similarly to Darja only in shades of yellow. Her light brown hair was pulled back in a long loose braid that danged between her shoulder blades. Gray eyes under her yellow hood darted to Keith briefly before she flashed him a smile and slipped by to grab a small crab… thing. Was that thing still moving?

_Crack._

…Well, it definitely wasn’t moving anymore, that’s for sure. Keith blinked and stared at the now decapitated crap-thing in horrified fascination. The yellow Druid caught his expression in the corner of her eye and laughed.

“Not what you expected?” she teased.

“Uh… Not really?” Keith said. A certain rodent squeaked and he may have flicked it, but no one would ever have enough proof to convict him. “It’s just,” he scratched his head awkwardly, “I mean, most food I’m used to eating is already dead. One way or another.”

“Ah.” She nodded. “Earthbound?”

Oh, this would be interesting. Keith shrugged without answering out loud, but thankfully the woman didn’t press. Instead, she looked at him, _really_ looked at him. For a moment, Keith swore he felt something prickle the skin on the underside of his bare feet. It didn’t hurt. It just felt weird. He shifted from foot to foot, hoping his fidgeting would go unnoticed.

Gray eyes widened. “You feel that?” the Druid gasped in surprise.

Keith blinked. “That was you?” He frowned. “Why were you poking my feet? _How_ were you poking my-” He stopped and held up a hand. “Nevermind. I know.”

“But you did feel that,” the woman said, still staring at him in surprise. “And you’re not a Druid?”

He shook his head. “Lance is, I’m not.”

The woman’s thin eyebrows scrunched low over her eyes in confusion. “Lance?” She turned her gaze to the crowd of reveling Vuana. “What color is he?” she asked.

“Why?”

Gray eyes returned to his own violet. Humming, she tilted her head and considered him. “I don’t mean you harm,” she said, offering him a sympathetic smile. “Not all of us have the scales, you know.”

She thought he was a half-breed. He could work with that. “No offense?” he said. “I don’t know you.”

Her frown deepened and she opened her mouth to speak when something crawled up Keith’s spine like a slug’s slime trail. It was disgusting and disturbing and Keith knew exactly what it was and he wanted it _gone._

Dismissing the woman completely, Keith began scanning the crowd for any hint of one of those filthy abominations. On the platform, nothing. Below the platform that Keith could see, nothing. Up perhaps? No, nothing. Behind-

His hand twitched and someone’s breath caught. It took him a second to realize he was holding his knife to a Vuana’s neck. Long, platinum blonde hair that was almost white hung in thick, heavy tresses down the woman’s back. Her skin was the same shade of lovely brown as Allura’s but her eyes were a poisonous green rather than the princess’s shimmering turquoise. And this woman’s scales were violet instead of Allura’s soft pink.

Still, the resemblance was uncanny.

“What are you doing?”

Oops. Completely forgot about the Druid behind him. Behind him. Shit. _Never_ let a Druid get behind him.

He had just enough time to think that before a hand grabbed his collar and yanked him back. Shit! That yellow Druid was stronger than she looked.

“What by the ‘Verse do you think you’re doing?!” she demanded.

“That _thing_ ,” he hissed, jerking himself from her grasp and glaring hatefully at the woman who could have passed for Allura’s sister, “is a Breeder.”

“Wha-” The Druid woman’s face went ashen.

“Well that was rude,” the Allura look-a-like said. Her voice was nothing like Allura’s and maybe that was good thing. But damn, it just made this whole situation even more weird. “And here I just wanted food. You must be Keith.”

“Fuck you, bitch,” he snarled viciously.

Everything about this woman made Keith’s hackles raise and flared his temper like a wind on a wildfire. It was just _wrong. She_ was _wrong_. Everything about her was wrong. And judging by Red’s low burning anger sizzling like low embers along the threads of his mind, Keith wasn’t the only one with that opinion. His instincts were _screaming_  at him to fight, kill, _erase_. Or flee, far, _fast._ Pick one. Both. _Now!_

Even that Druid that stalked passed Lance’s home a couple nights ago hadn’t felt this bad. Nor did that Breeder guy he and Lance met the other day. This woman made him _sick!_ He _hated_ her.

A delicate white-blonde eyebrow lifted in a perfect arch. “Strange words,” she said, unmoved by Keith’s obvious hate. “Were you raised by the Oceanborne?” Poisonous green eyes narrowed. “Judging from your lack of scales and nasty attitude, you probably have too much Myr in you. Pity,” she purred, a smile like a snake fang slithered across her lips. “I would have preferred a little less.”

The blade in Keith’s hand vibrated. Damn, he must be shaking harder than he thought. Deep breaths. Patience yields focus.

“At least I’m not a genetic mess like you,” he snapped.

Green eyes… sparkled? Why was she grinning? Why wasn’t she arguing?

“Where is your Druid, Keith?” the Breeder asked, her unnatural gaze never wavering from the red paladin. “Druids should stay close to their charges.”

“That’s none of your business,” he said, his hold on his temper slipping through his fingers like flames.

“On the contrary, it is very much my business,” the Breeder said. “He may have enough Myr in his genetics to deserve pod tattoos, but anyone to successfully reach the rank of Master Druid under our Emperor’s command is worth our attention.”

Keith’s adrenaline spiked. Did they know?

“Just because he’s better than you, doesn’t mean you should be jealous,” he said, forcing himself to straighten from his aggressive crouch. He doubted the Breeder would attack him out in the open like this. At night, alone… Maybe.

“Jealous? Of Lance?” The Breeder rolled her eyes and sniffed, giving Keith a disdainful smirk. “Hardly. Pity, yes. Jealous, no. Control yourself, Oceanborne brat. I’d much prefer-”

She broke off when a harmonic ringing abruptly filled the entire settlement. It was eerie and dissonant and off. Then the particle barrier flickered, a ripple of energy radiating up through each hexagonal segment from the base below the ocean to the pinnacle above Yggdrasil’s highest point. The phenomenon only lasted a few seconds before the sound faded, the glow dimmed, and the shield returned to its still, sturdy form.

Keith blinked and looked around. He hadn’t been the only one staring up at the shield. Even the Breeder Allura-look-a-like was staring up at the particle barrier with barely concealed fear. Okay. So that wasn’t supposed to happen. Good to know. Good it happened? Maybe not. At least it got him out for the Breeder’s attention for a bit.

“I’ll overlook your act of violence for the time being,” the Breeder woman said, her green gaze dropping back to Keith. “I have more important things to take care of.”

Keith didn’t even try to stop the Breeder from darting off the platform towards a path heading down. He did notice the handful of other Vuana following her example, however. The prickle of tiny claws gripping his skin as the little blue mouse hopped onto the hand still clutching his knife and climbed up his arm to his shoulder. Tucking the knife back into his belt where it would be within easy reach just in case he needed it again, he turned back to the yellow Druid who still stood behind him.

“What was that just now?” he demanded.

Gray eyes were wide and but not terrified like he’d been expecting. Instead, it looked like she was studying the particle barrier.

“I’m not sure,” she said. “Possibly a wave from the storm or an impact from Surtr’s larger debris.”

Options, yes, but none that she really considered the cause. Why keep her suspicions to herself?

“Keith,” she said, gray eyes settling on his face. “Was she really a Breeder?”

“She felt like it, yeah,” he said. “And she didn’t deny it either, so…” He shrugged. “Why?”

She considered Keith for a minute, then took another bite of the still-twitching crustacean in her hand. Ehhh… So many twitching, _crunching_ legs.

“Suffice it to say it would be best if I didn’t catch a Breeder’s eye,” she said, slurping some of the soft, squishy… oh god. “I have no intention of becoming a Breeder’s mindless toy again.” She swallowed. “Want some?”

Toy… Slurping squishy… Do not throw up.

“Keith!”

A lean, wiry, blue noodle latched itself onto Keith’s shoulders and clung tight enough to make him cough. Followed closely by a sharp smack on the back of his head.

“What did I tell you about the Breeders, you frakking quiznak!” Lance said. And how the _hell_ did he manage to say that without actually yelling? “If you see one, _run away._ What is wrong with you reds and your incessant need to _fight_ anything that twitches?”

He smacked at Keith again, but this time Keith caught his wrist and twisted his arm so Lance tripped and fell forward. Ocean blue eyes were stormy with frustrated exasperation, but rushing just below the surface was worry.

“I can handle myself,” Keith said. “Despite what you seem to think, I can fight. I held _you_ at sword point, remember.”

Lance’s mouth dropped open. “You- _You-_ I’ll have you know I was weaponless at the time,” he snapped. “That was hardly a fair fight.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes.”

“In the hangers too?”

Lance sputtered. “I was injured!”

“And that makes it fair, right?”

“What is _wrong_ with you?!” Lance cried, stomping his foot.

“Nothing,” Keith said, smirking. “Just enjoying how the tables have turned.”

Lance blinked. “Wha-what tables?”

Keith tilted his head back and stared up at heaven with a groan. “What did I ever do to get a crazy Druid like you?” he complained to whoever was listening.

Red made a sound that was suspiciously like a leonine snicker which fluttered like glowing embers in smoke through his thoughts. Well, Red was apparently listening. And so was Chulatt if the squeaky chirpy sounds and the bright red blush blooming in Lance’s cheeks were anything to go by.

Damn.

“Hello again.”

Both Lance and Keith looked over to the Druid woman still standing there eating that squishy… And there went Keith’s humor. So gross.

Lance stiffened. “Nadia?”

“You know her?” Keith asked.

“He was my relief,” she said, slurping the last leg of the now very dead crustacean into her mouth and tossing the crushed shell pieces onto a plate of similar leftover shells. “I had already been working as a transport for migrants between Freya and Frey yester-quintant. I was tired and he took over. I understand you warned Galo about my state.”

Keith watched Lance’s expression fall to a grim frown as he nodded. “I did,” he said. “I could feel…” He glanced at Keith. “I know a fellow when I feel one.”

Nadia’s cloudy gaze slipped to the side. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “Thank you for getting me to Galo before…”

Lance nodded and Keith frowned. He was missing something important here. He just knew it. Think about this. Feel. Lance said he could feel a fellow. A fellow what? The only people Keith knew of that Lance could feel coming were the Breeders.

He adjusted his grip on Lance’s wrist and felt the odd smoothness of the scar there. The scar he made when he attacked Lance in the Galactic Hub. He’d almost forgotten about that. He pressed his thumb against it, startling Lance who stiffened and jerked his wrist instinctively. Keith refused to let go.

Cuts. Lance had said something about quintessence being connected to blood and bleeding allowed a Druid’s quintessence to be influenced. Or corrupted. And that that corruption is what the Myr and Oceanborne felt that allowed them to detect Breeders when they were nearby. Lance had been free of that same corruption in his quintessence since Blue chose him and purged the corrupted black quintessence from him.

But was he really free? What if the corruption was still there? Not enough to really do anything. But like… like… the chicken pox. You got it once, then chances were you’d never get it again because the body built up a resistance to it. However, the virus remained in the body in a dormant state. Sometimes it came back as the chicken pox, although that was very rare, or it came back as shingles.

What if the corrupted quintessence was like that? The influence may be gone, but the… weakness to it was still there. What if ‘fellow’ meant a fellow previously corrupted Vuana?

Damn.

“Before a Breeder could grab you and drag you back in, you mean?” he said in a low voice.

On his shoulder, Chulatt squeaked in surprise. Lance and Nadia were staring at him in shock, their faces ashen with… fear?

“I won’t tell,” Keith said seriously, staring straight into Lance’s eyes. There was something to be said about having a boyfriend that was practically the same height as him. He brushed his thumb over the scar, pressing it gently. “I’ll kill anyone who tries,” he said fiercely. “Breeder or not.”

Lance gulped, speechless.

“Thank you,” Nadia said, drawing Keith’s attention. “Galo knows, but not many… Thank you.”

Keith nodded.

“Urydarach?” she asked, offering him a fresh, _alive_ crab-thing.

“…uh… no, thank you,” he wheezed.

Do _not_ vomit.

Don’t even think about it.

“I’m full,” he said after clearing his throat and looking away from flailing, multi-jointed legs and _holyshitwasitsQuEaLiNg?!_

“Are you sure?” Nadia said, a playful grin touching her lips. “I hear they’re exceptionally good when roasted.”

RoAsTeD?!

“I- Yep…”

“You’ve barely touch anything, Keith,” Lance said, a teasing grin glowing suspiciously on his face.

Keith stiffened, staring at Lance in horrified betrayal. “I did too!” he squeaked… in a manly sort of way.

“No, you didn’t,” Lance argued, smirking the whole time. The _jerk!_ “And even if you did, you could only be half full at most.”

“I. Am. Full. Lance,” Keith growled, feeling his temper return full force.

Control it. Do not explode. Patience yields-

Lance tsked. “Half full,” he said, waving a _finger at him fuck that was IT!_

“Keep teasing me and I’ll push you against a wall and show you the difference between full and half full, you crazy Druid!”

…

You know, Keith couldn’t remember ever seeing Lance’s eyes so wide or his face so red. Minus last night when the Druid blew him like a fucking master. Although his eyes had been closed most of that time. Huh. So Lance could dish it out, but he _really_ couldn’t handle it thrown back at him.

Good to know.

_Crunch._

“At least wait until they light the bonfires,” Nadia said, grinning like a maniac around her mouthful of a freshly decapitated crab-thing. “Galo and I know all the best globes in the upper branches. We’d be happy to help you out.”

…fuck.


	49. Secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Keith sees, seethes, and listens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** Okay. We're almost there. Next chapter should be 100% smut. So enjoy this last smut-less chapter before then. I'm crashing now. Night.

She wasn’t thrilled about having to leave the Green Lion behind outside the shield, but she didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. She just couldn’t find a way to create a breach in the particle barrier large enough to allow the Green Lion to get through without risking the deactivation of the entire section of the shield. That would not only give away their presence, but could also potentially endanger any life forms the shield was protecting from the storm.

At least Green wasn’t too upset. She trusted her paladin to do the right thing and complete the mission. That trust wove around her like leafy vines that were too thick and comforting to tear away. Besides, Green rumbled, it would be a good idea to have someone on the outside to give Pidge a warning in case anyone or any _thing_ caught wind of their presence.

Thus, Pidge found herself holding the handful of hexagonal scales inactive long enough for Ulaz to swim through the small opening. It wasn’t easy. She had to hold the improvised break in the energy flow with her bayard in a delicate fashion. Wouldn’t want to accidentally sever the connection entirely.

Her paladin suit’s oxygen supply was limited, but there was enough to support her through an extended stay in space. Under the ocean, however, where the pressure on her suit was intense enough that she could feel her ears popping, she worried. Pressurized oxygen was toxic to Humans and Pidge didn’t know how the life support system of her paladin suit worked exactly. She made a mental note to look into that for later.

Right now, she intended to be sure there _was_ a later. The sloshing water from the waves far above still managed to move her body enough for her to cling to the metal support beam. Bracing herself against the dully gleaming metal, she levered the majority of her body through the opening and waited for Ulaz to grab her feet. The moment he patted her leg, she removed her bayard from the energy break and prayed.

Water flowed past her but there was no tingle of pain. Blinking in surprise, she found herself staring at the now sealed opening. Ulaz had yanked her fast enough. Thank god. Unfortunately, she highly doubted their breach went unnoticed. A harmonic sound almost like a tuning fork flowed through the water loud enough for her to hear through her helmet at the same time the energy rippled out from the now sealed hole.

Woah.

 _“We should make ourselves scarce,”_ Ulaz said over their shared communications.

“Right,” she answered, immediately turning and swimming away from the shield.

Where to go. Where to go. Up would be best, but that would be predictable. Unless…

Her eyes widened as she took in the city of amber globes. They hovered in the water from near the surface, down almost to the ocean floor. The globes looped and spiraled around enormous, dark appendages that looked like tree roots. What looked like people- _Humans_  she corrected mentally- moved about within the amber globes.

No way.

The globes weren’t the only place where there was movement. Pidge flinched when she noticed shadows flit across the sea floor. She suddenly wanted very much to get _out_ of the water. She grabbed Ulaz’s hand and tugged to get his attention before pointing to the surface. She didn’t wait for him to verbally or visually acknowledge her. She just began swimming as hard and as fast as she could.

A soothing trill like a humpback whale song caressed her through the currents and her fear spiked. She wasn’t welcome here. She could feel it. And if _she_ wasn’t welcome here, she couldn’t even _begin_ to imagine how unwelcome Ulaz was. If those creatures even knew what Ulaz was.

If they did…

“Hurry!” she said, kicking herself through the water as fast as she could.

She was strong, but water wasn’t as easy to move through as air. She could run flat out for a fair distance without tiring. There was a reason she was as spry as she was. Track club had been merciless and boot camp at the Galaxy Garrison even more so. But swimming…

Hopefully, Ulaz could keep up. She wanted _out. Now!_

A moan like… not a humpback whale. It was melodic, but in a terrifying sort of way that made her hackles rise. The moan was answered by a series of harmonious calls that almost made her want to turn back. Look. Come. See. Deeper. Stranger. Welcome. Hungr-

_Nonononono HELL NO!!_

She risked turning back long enough to grab Ulaz by the hood and yank, before kicking tiredly through the water. Almost to the surface. Almost there. Almost there. Almost there. _There!_

She broke through the surface near what looked like a series of docks. She didn’t question her luck. She just gasped for breath and swam as hard as she ever had for the nearest wood and metal contraption. Her hands slapped the edge and she hauled herself up onto it and out of the water. Thankfully, Ulaz was right behind her.

She opened her helmet and gasped fresh air, collapsing spread eagle on her back. That had been exhausting and terrifying. Something had been hunting them. She didn’t know how she knew it, but she knew she was right. Those sounds… They had been so beautiful and haunting and alluring and yet dangerous and deadly like… like… mermaids.

…no. No way. This wasn’t fantasy, Pidge. If anything, this was sci-fi. Duh. Space ships and space fights and planets and giant robots and space elves and space magic and… Okay. So maybe sci-fi-fantasy. But that was as far as Pidge was willing to go. Fantasy was magic and the unexplainable. Sci-fi was the explained but in a new way. Sort of. Kind of.

You know what? She had better things to do than question what genre her life had decided to tumble headlong into. Her brother would laugh himself stupid over this if he ever found out.

Matt.

“Are you well?”

Ulaz. Right. Mission. Deep breath.

Rolling onto her hands and knees, she nodded. “Yeah,” she gasped. “Just a little out of breath. Come on. Let’s go before anyone catches us.”

Ulaz nodded, his purple and black mask revealing nothing of what he was feeling. Together they jogged across the bobbing dock and climbed a ladder to a platform that surrounded a tree. A fucking huge ass tree. Holy _shit!_

Pidge tilted her head as far back as it could go, even bending over backwards and she _still_ couldn’t see the top. Damn. This thing had to be several times taller than a sequoia or a redwood back on Earth. And were those _lights_ up there? People _lived_ up there? How did they…

A narrow, covered stairway spiraled up the trunk of the gigantic tree. Okay. Pidge could take a hint. But seriously, if there were space elves living on this thing, she would crumble and play D&D with Hunk.

Please don’t be space elves.

“My suit does not have a portable jet pack,” Ulaz said mildly, studying his surroundings with care. “But no matter how we reach the canopy, I suggest we hurry.”

He pointed to several objects that detached from the trunk far above them and began descending towards the platform they stood on. Pidge muttered a curse and ran to the tree trunk. At least the light was still iffy due to the storm outside the shield and the various flickering lanterns which held glowing crystals. Were those Balmera crystals? They were awfully small. Whatever. Later.

She pressed herself close to the trunk and snuck towards the foot of the stairway. Then Ulaz darted past her and yanked her behind a huge knot in the wood.

“Do you think you could carry me up there?” he asked.

Pidge frowned and considered the suggestion. Her weight, plus Ulaz’s weight, plus the extra energy needed to fight gravity over such a significant height. She bit her lip.

“Maybe,” she said hesitantly. “Probably not the whole way in one go, though. We’d have to stop a couple times along the way to make sure my jet pack doesn’t overheat.”

Ulaz nodded. “Understood.”

Now the mechanics of the issue. Damn. This was not going to be nice on her spine. If Keith ever heard about this, she would die.

* * *

Thank every single being in existence that Pidge wasn’t here. No one deserved to watch Lance dance. Especially not like _that holy fuck!_ It wasn’t like any sexy dancing on Earth. There was no grinding or humping or anything. It was actually pretty tame by comparison. The number of times the dancers touched each other were few and far between. It was _how_ they touched that had Keith blushing and doing his best not to drool all over himself because _hot damn._

There were no partners in the dance. It was each person on their own. Druids and non-Druids wove between one another, and it was breathtakingly beautiful. Even the children darted between the adults, laughing and squealing. Everyone was welcome. Not every Vuana could dance, but that didn’t stop them from joining in.

Keith stood back along the railing of this platform with a few other Vuana who were chatting, watching, eating, or walking to another path nearby. At the center of this platform, within a carefully maintained ring, burned a fire that flickered with tongues of blue, lavender, green, and red. How the heck did the Vuana find wood that burned those colors? Crazy space wood?

The warmth from the colorful blaze was a balm to Keith’s nerves. He could feel the Red Lion’s interest in the colorful flames like a moth to a candle. If he wasn’t careful, Keith wondered if Red would nudge him over to try touching the fire. He felt the heat of Red’s abashed huff singe his mind and snickered. He knew her too well, and nowhere near well enough. She purred, sending him her pleasure and desire for him to know more. He was _her_ paladin, after all. Curiosity and instinct were as much a part of him as they were a part of her.

Speaking of curiosity, Keith noticed when Red’s thoughts drifted back to the unexpected actions of Yggdrasil’s shield earlier that afternoon. The tension from the shield’s odd behavior earlier was still an undercurrent in every Vuana’s cautious side glance or subtle flinch or too-quick reaction to a loud noise. But to be honest, if Keith hadn’t been looking for it, he probably would have missed it.

Come to think of it, the celebratory atmosphere was heavy on his shoulders. If he didn’t know better, he would’ve bet the Vuana were deliberately celebrating to forget what was going on. …Did he know better?

Nearly forty people died yesterday. Keith couldn’t remember seeing anyone sad or unhappy since the festivities began. He would’ve expected some melancholy or some kind of lingering depression somehow, _somewhere._ But there was none. At all. Or, at least, there wasn’t anything that he could detect.

It was all eerily happy. It was weird. Disturbing even.

Chulatt squeaked something to him from his shoulder and Keith hummed in reply. He tilted his head towards the mouse without moving his gaze away from the dancers. Particularly that one dancer in blue who seemed to have drifted towards a red Druid.

The little blue mouse poked his cheek and squeaked what sounded like a question. Keith sighed. Whatever. Allura talked to them and Lance did too apparently, so why shouldn’t he?

“Why aren’t they sad?” he murmured. Chulatt chittered in confusion. “Thirty-nine people died yesterday, there’s a volcano erupting just outside the shield, we’re in the middle of a hurricane, Breeders are trying to kidnap children from under our noses, and these people are celebrating instead. They didn’t mourn their dead, they didn’t delay the celebration or hold a memorial service or anything. If I hadn’t seen everything going on out there,” he jerked his chin towards the shield, “I would’ve thought everything was fine.”

Chulatt shifted, its fur brushing his cheek.

“Why?” Keith muttered half to himself.

The mouse didn’t seem to have an answer to Keith’s question. The woodwinds, strings, and drums pulsed through the air, drowning out Keith’s thoughts. Darja twirled like grace personified, brushing shoulders with Lance. The red Druid drew a finger close to Lance’s scale before Darja stepped between them as easily as air, drawing the red Druid’s gaze to her.

She swayed, leaned closed, and touched her cheek to Lance’s. Whatever she sent to him through the connection startled a laugh from Lance before she stepped back. Then she flipped her braid over her shoulder and strode through the crowd expertly avoiding any touches from the other dancers. The red Druid followed her movements with his eyes before returning to Lance.

Except Lance wasn’t there anymore. He had moved to a female Vuana who wasn’t wearing the signature hood of a Druid. They slowed their bodies, choosing to simply sway easily to the rhythm as they talked.

Then something prickled Keith’s senses and he straightened. Breeder? Where? On the platform, Keith noticed Lance tense a split second after he did. So did several other dancers, actually. Oceanborne.

A young woman who Keith would have sworn was Allura -and seriously, two Allura-look-a-likes in one night? What were the odds?- stepped onto the platform and began dancing too. The result was subtle but noticeable. The few Vuana who knew what she was moved their dancing away from the Breeder, and other Vuana followed.

One Vuana wasn’t fast enough and found himself drawn in to the Breeder. She danced around him, delicate and perfect, tracing a fingernail over his cheek once before twirling and smiling. It wasn’t a threatening smile. It was alluring and beatific and promised things better left to the night. She swayed and extended her hand to him. He took it and her smile glowed as she drew him away towards a lantern-lit path leading up.

Biting his lip, Keith felt himself move before he caught himself. A hand on his arm stopped him from doing something… Anger burned in him. This was _wrong._ Didn’t they know this was wrong? Didn’t that Vuana know that woman was a Breeder?

Maybe he didn’t.

“Keith.”

Blinking, Keith hesitated. Since when had he come so close to the fire? Swallowing his unease, he turned his gaze to Lance. The blue Druid kept his hold on Keith’s arm gentle but firm. There was room for Keith to pull away, but Lance didn’t seem to think he would. Lance was right.

Blue eyes gleamed with worry in the colorful firelight, casting Lance’s face in flickering shadows that danced like the Vuana around them. He knew. He had seen. And he did nothing…

“Leave them,” Lance said, stepping closer, his gaze boring into Keith’s. “I doubt he’ll be harmed.”

…Patience yields focus.

“That… _thing,”_ he hissed, “was a Breeder.”

Lance nodded minutely. “Yes, _she_ is,” he said, emphasizing the pronoun.

Keith stared at him in disgusted disbelief but Lance’s stormy gaze never wavered. “Her quintessence is corrupted,” he murmured. “I know better than most how that can happen without even realizing it.” Finally, his gaze dropped to where he held the red paladin’s arm. “She doesn’t feel as wrong as the Breeder from earlier,” he whispered. “She’s probably a Pureblood. Don’t hate her. She didn’t choose to be who she is.”

Pureblood?

His shoulder twitched as tiny claws crawled slowly across his skin before hopping onto Lance’s hand. Chulatt moved up the Druid’s arm to Lance’s shoulder, nuzzling his neck. Lance offered the mouse a wane smile before sighing.

“Walk with me,” he murmured, tugging Keith gently.

Together, they slipped between dancers. Lance paused by Darja, plucked Chulatt from his shoulder, and placed him on his sister’s. Black eyes blinked and Darja scrunched her nose in distaste.

“I think the children might enjoy some company,” he said.

Darja hesitated, her eyes flashing to Keith almost too quickly to follow, before nodding. “I’m sure they do,” she agreed. “See you tomorrow.”

Keith could feel Darja’s ebony gaze boring into his back as he followed Lance onto a lantern-lit path leading to another, nearby platform. But instead of continuing forward, Lance stopped and looked up.

“Hold on,” he murmured.

“To-” he blinked “-what?”

He staggered briefly when his bare foot slipped on moss that wasn’t there before. It was also darker here. It took Keith a moment of looking around to realize he and Lance were now standing on a branch path that crossed higher than the platform they’d been on. Below, bonfires flickered a rainbow of colors from different platforms all throughout Yggdrasil’s branching layers.

But there were no fires up here. Only lanterns hanging from higher branches or woven into the wood and metal path itself. Even some moss glowed up here. Lightning flickered from outside the shield, casting stark light across the upper branches. Keith had only been up here once, but he hadn’t paid it too much attention before.

There were no pod homes up here either. Instead, small globes like those in the Freya settlement beneath the sea hung from or were woven into branches. Unlike the watery globes, however, these did not glow. They reflected the cold, rainy white of the lightning and cool colors of the bonfires below and lanterns scattered everywhere. At least one such lantern hung by every globe, but not all were lit.

 “Where are we?” Keith said, eyeing Lance suspiciously.

Blue eyes flickered to him, that alien eye shine flashing briefly before blue looked away. “Somewhere where we won’t be disturbed,” the Druid whispered.

Without another word, Lance’s hand slipped down Keith’s arm to his hand, their fingers twining together. Keith followed Lance towards a globe woven into a branch like a knot in the wood. The lit lantern by the globe flickered in a breeze filtering through the shield from a storm gust that howled faintly.

Lance waved his hand by a pad and the particle barrier in the section of the globe that served as the entry vanished, revealing a dark interior. Casting a wary glance over his shoulder, Lance stepped inside, ducking his head under a gnarled wooden branch than dipped low over the entrance. Keith followed, ducking the branch as well. Once he was inside, Lance stepped aside and waved his hand over a panel on the interior side of a curved, metal support beam. The particle barrier fizzle back into place, sealing them inside.

Like the particle barriers that served as the walls for the pod homes, the particle barrier walls of this globe were translucent. When lightning flashed, Keith could just barely make out the shadows of branches and occasionally people. The dim glow of other lanterns were specks of dull color in the foggy walls. Lance hesitated, then tapped the panel by the entrance once more and the interlocking hexagonal scales of the particle barrier cleared, showing the evening world around them.

“We can see out,” Lance whispered, “but no one can see in.” He shifted, kneeling on the cushioned floor. “As long as the lantern is out, no one will disturb us.”

Lantern. Small interior. A large cushion that served as the floor, blankets folded by the walls, and pillows scattered haphazardly around. Keith blushed. This must be the Vuana version of a red lantern district. At least the lantern part was still accurate.

“It’s not always safe to talk about certain things in public,” Lance said, leaning on his side and tugging Keith down to sit in front of him. “As I said, that woman may be a Breeder, but considering how weak her… wrongness felt, she was likely a Pureblood. There’s not much that they can… They aren’t really… They can’t help what they are. We don’t hate them. We fear them and we pity them, but we don’t hate them.”

“Why not?” Keith asked.

Lance hesitated, the lights from the distant lanterns and occasional flashes of lightning dancing across the small room.

“Would you hate a person just because their parents slept with each other?” Lance asked, lifting shining dark eyes to Keith’s. “Purebloods are… those who maintain the oldest, purist genes of our ancestors. Most are too inbred to do much beyond living and breeding, but some are still capable of making their own decisions. It’s just… not common.”

“And she was a Pureblood,” Keith said, brushing his thumb over the scar on the tender underside of Lance’s wrist.

Lance nodded. “I believe so, yes,” he said. “If the Breeders didn’t stop her, then that means her… Favored has decent enough genes for a match.”

“But they won’t hurt him.” It wasn’t quite a question.

“No,” Lance answered. “They won’t. If the Breeders wanted him, they wouldn’t have let a Pureblood beguile him.”

Keith hesitated. “She looked a lot like Allura,” he said, studying Lance’s shadowed face closely.

Blue eyes dropped. “I’m not surprised,” he admitted reluctantly. “Purebloods are more Altean than we are. By breeding with a Vuana every now and then, they can lower the chances of too many issues from inbreeding. Hopefully.”

“And Nadia?” Keith pressed gently. “You could feel her too.”

Lance hesitated, nodding slowly. “She could sense me too, I think,” he murmured. “We’ve both had our quintessence… corrupted one way or another.” He huffed a wry laugh. “I haven’t… I forgot what a Pureblood felt like. I can only imagine what that man felt.”

Keith did not like the sound of that. “What do you mean?” he asked in a low voice.

“Fascination, probably,” Lance continued, shaking his head. “And awe, and a pull like the moons have on the sea, or like the Daystar has on Vuana, or like quintessence has on our blood. He probably thought she was the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen.”

Keith listened to those soft words carefully. “You’ve met a Pureblood before,” he said.

Chapped lips parted, then pressed together in a thin line as Lance sighed wearily. “I told you the Breeders found Taavi before he understood what he was feeling,” Lance said slowly. “Purebloods aren’t normally allowed to leave Yggdrasil, but she… did. She’d slipped her guard and I found her. I didn’t know Taavi then. Nor did I know her. But when I saw her on the pebble beach by a glacier, staring at the waves of Uryd like a pillar of ice and snow, I couldn’t look away.”

A shaky breath. “It was cold and she was warm,” Lance whispered, hanging his head. “I didn’t know… I didn’t understand… I left her when I heard screaming. I don’t know how long I was gone from my clan, but it was long enough. Taavi had been separated from his clan on the ice. The Pureblood’s Breeder guards had come searching for her, and found him. I left her for him, and I never went back.”

“She called me,” he murmured. “She called me. Maybe she meant what she said, maybe she didn’t. I almost went back to her. I probably would have if I hadn’t been so close to the water. The Myr dragged me under before I could make a decision. The next thing I remember, I was coughing and trying to keep Taavi’s head above the icy water so a passing Oceanborne clan would see us.”

Lance tugged his hand weakly in Keith’s grasp. “They’re lonely, Keith,” he whispered. “If you’d heard her crying like I did… You’d know.”

Maybe. Maybe Lance was right. Maybe he would know. But he hadn’t been there. He hadn’t heard. He didn’t know.

But he… understood.

“She was your first,” Keith said.

He wasn’t quite sure, but it looked like Lance’s cheeks darkened a shade or two in the dim light. He didn’t really know what to say. But he knew what he felt, what he wanted. So he leaned into Lance’s personal space and placed a soft kiss on a smooth, cool scale. He felt Lance’s wrist twitch in his grip and heard the stuttering catch in Lance’s breath.

“She may have been your first, but I’ll be your last,” Keith whispered into a pointed ear. “When I’m through with you tonight, you won’t be satisfied be anyone but me. Ever. Again.” He bit the folded skin, tightening his grip on Lance’s wrist and pressing his thumb against the scar when the Druid twitched. “I’ll make sure of it.”


	50. Passion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Keith doesn't let Lance sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** Ok, here's y'all's warning: this whole chapter is nothing but smut. No shame. I mean, geez, it only took, what, 50 chapters to get here. Sheesh. 
> 
> Quick note about the previous chapter. The reason why the fires were burning different colors was mainly due to the chemicals on the wood, like sea salt. No kidding. The smoke from burning salt water driftwood is toxic to humans, but then... isn't all smoke toxic to humans???

Lance shivered when Keith pressed his lips against the slender, pointed ear. He slid his tongue between the folds leaving a cool, wet trail and a stuttered sigh in his wake. He nipped the Druid’s earlobe briefly before moving his mouth down the sharp jawline, pressing kisses to the swiftly heating skin. He could feel the wrist still cradled in his hand twitching, as if wanting to pull away but unable to find the strength or desire to do so.

Smiling, Keith placed a lingering kiss at the corner of Lance’s mouth. Only then did he finally take Lance’s mouth captive, moving his lips against Lance’s slowly luxuriating in the feel and taste of him. They were in no rush. They had all night to touch and taste and Keith fully intended to take advantage of that. He wanted everything Lance would give him.

He tilted his head and worked his tongue between Lance’s lips to deepen the kiss, loving the soft sigh he heard. Long, hesitant fingers slid into his hair dragging dull fingernails along Keith’s scalp. It felt surprisingly good and Keith hummed in approval. He cupped Lance’s cheek with his free hand and pressed his thumb against the blue scale. The full body shudder and shy arousal leaking into his mind from the contact made him nip the plump lower lip between his teeth teasingly. Lance tensed in surprise, his fingers tightening in Keith’s hair.

Keith chuckled. “You like that?” he whispered, rubbing his thumb over the scale in slow, soothing circles that made Lance’s breathing unsteady. He nipped the lip again, slightly harder this time and grinned at the faint whimper. “You do,” he purred, leaning just far enough back to see his boyfriend’s face and shining eyes. “Good to know.”

He pressed another quick kiss to chapped lips before drifting down to Lance’s chin, the soft underside of his jaw, and the slender column of his neck. He hummed against dark skin when Lance tilted his head back for easier access. Nuzzling the dip in Lance’s throat, Keith traced a nail over the scar on his boyfriend’s wrist.

He regretted being the cause of that. He’d been so sure Lance was abandoning them… abandoning him. Leaving him alone just like everyone always had in the past. He never wanted to do something like that to Lance ever again. He wouldn’t _let_  Lance leave him like that again. He wanted to do this for the long term.

“W-what?”

Lance’s voice was thin and reedy, but that single word held so much hope it hurt. For a second, Keith was confused. Then he felt shy hope ripple along his senses and smiled, remembering the scale he was still touching. Oh, the things he could do to Lance with just that single touch.

“I’m serious,” he said, pressing a sloppy kiss to the soft skin of Lance’s neck. “If you’re interested.”

Judging from the sudden, sharp grip in his hair and eagerness surging into his mind with startling force, Lance was _very_ interested. He snickered and sat back to look his boyfriend in the eyes. That eerie eye shine he’d come to find both attractive and fascinating gleamed in the dim light of the globe. He really hoped these globes were soundproof because he planned on working Lance until the Druid couldn’t talk _or_ walk.

Lance flinched in shock, dark blue eyes wide in a deep red face shadowed by his hood. Keith grinned and deliberately leaned forward to lick Lance’s unoccupied scale. The aborted cry that Lance barely bit back was plenty reward, but Keith wanted more. He slid his free hand away from the scale and into Lance’s short, brown hair massaging the Druid’s scalp like Lance was doing to him. Then, nosing the hood off Lance’s head, he closed his lips around the scale and suckled it.

“Ah- _nn!”_

_:Shock. Good. So… good.:_

Pleased, Keith leaned to the side, tugging Lance down to the cushioned bed beneath them. He released his hold on Lance’s wrist in favor of slipping his arm around his boyfriend’s waist and holding him flush against his body. He tangled his legs with Lance’s, smirking when his thigh not-so-accidentally nudged his boyfriend’s crotch. Lance groaned and lifted the thigh held captive between Keith’s legs up and rubbed against the red paladin’s growing erection.

Keith moaned and released Lance’s scale, enjoying the way the Druid flopped limply on the cushions. But he didn’t give him a chance to recover before kissing him full on the lips once more. He gripped brown hair between his fingers hard enough to elicit a smothered yelp then slid his hand down the back of Lance’s neck, and over his arm to settle on a muscular thigh. He squeezed the muscle, spreading his fingers out and caressing it up and down until he felt Lance hum into his mouth. He really did love Lance’s legs.

He teased the hem of the Druid’s shirt up, brushing his hand against warming skin. Lance tensed.

“Cold,” he whispered breathlessly, barely breaking the kiss.

“Then warm them up,” Keith purred, sliding his hand up along his boyfriend’s spine. With his other hand, he cupped Lance’s ass and traced a single finger up the crease between the two, plump cheeks. “I’ll be warming you up later,” he teased.

* * *

Since when was Keith so utterly shameless?

It took all of Lance’s concentration to keep his mind focused on clear, concise words. He still barely managed to mumble Keith’s name. Cool fingers traced his spine and shoulder blades causing them to twitch and his back to arch into Keith’s chest. It felt good but Keith had cold hands. At least his mouth was hot.

He reached around the red paladin’s waist with his free hand at the same time he untangled his other hand from black strands. He wanted more than that hint of teasing friction he got from Keith’s thigh. And some revenge for those cold fingers. Two could place this game, after all.

It didn’t take much to slip both hands under the seam of Keith’s pants and press his chilled palms and fingers against his partner’s smeg. His partner’s very shapely smeg. He grinned into the kiss when Keith squeaked in shock and squirmed away from the cold touch and into Lance’s welcoming heat.

“Want something?” he murmured between kisses.

Keith’s groan morphed into a soft chuckle. “I can think of a few things,” he murmured. “Most of them involving you without clothes.”

“Just most of them?” Lance teased, trailing his tongue over Keith’s lips.

A hum. “A few involve your hood and a shirt,” he admitted, nipping Lance’s tongue playfully.

“Oh, really?” Lance giggled. “And why would I need a shirt, my red paladin?”

Keith purred and nuzzled Lance’s neck encouraging the Druid to lean his head back and arch his body to accommodate. “I’m told sleeves have several uses.”

“Hmm?” Lance looped one of his legs around Keith’s and massaged that very sweet ass. “Care to share?”

“Maybe,” Keith said, biting the skin where Lance’s neck met his shoulder and sucking until Lance knew there would be a mark. “But only after I’ve taken you slowly and appreciated your every,” he kissed, “inch.”

Cool fingers drifted to Lance’s side and traced over his skin ever so lightly. Lance couldn’t help it. He tried. He really did. But it just… tickled. At least Keith joined in the laughter. Unfortunately, Keith didn’t stop at just laughing. He kept moving his fingers over that ticklish spot despite Lance’s wriggling and pleas for mercy between bursts of laughter.

When Keith finally let him catch his breath, Lance shirt was tossed aside and his pants were undone and riding low on his hips. Now that just wasn’t fair. He latched onto Keith’s shoulders and heaved his weight so the two of them rolled until he straddled Keith’s hips. Yes. This view would do nicely.

Keith grinned, smug and content, and rolled his hips up just enough to tease. Feeling the half hard bulge right there under a thin layer of cloth made Lance purr with pleasure. He ground down harder against the bulge earning him a groan from Keith beneath him. He did it again and slid a hand up his stomach, over his chest, and up his neck just to see Keith’s reaction.

It was absolutely worth it. Keith’s eyes gleamed in the dim light, the pupils beginning to overtake the violet irises. Lance bit his lip and rolled his hips. He gasped when hands grabbed his thighs and steadied him as Keith’s hips met his in a steady rhythm that did wonders to his senses.

With Keith’s hands successfully occupied, Lance pushed both of his hands under the paladin’s red shirt and forced the fabric up so he had a good view of that chest. Perfect. He licked his lips and leaned down to suckle the right nipple, humming when Keith huffed and grabbed his bottom. He continued to roll his hips against Keith’s, but it was a little difficult to get enough friction. He wanted more.

A calloused hand cupped his cheek and pressed his scale. He shivered when _:Want. Need. Now:_ flooded his mind. He sighed and reluctantly withdrew from the very abused yet very erect nipple, flicking it with a finger when he lifted his gaze to Keith’s. The hand on his bottom gripped harder just as an image flashed behind his eyes. The intensity of the _need_ to see that image in reality combined with the rush of desire for _him_ startled Lance.

“Y-you want that?” he stuttered, still trying to separate his own desire from Keith’s fiery arousal through their connection.

Keith nodded. “Oh yeah.”

Sitting up, Lance reluctantly broke their rhythm of thrusts and kicked his pants off, not paying attention to where they fell, wincing when his penis touched cool air. Then he crawled forward so he straddled Keith’s face. He could feel his heart pounding in his neck and chest. He never thought he’d _enjoy_ seeing Keith beneath him in this way. He never even _thought_ about doing something like this before. With anyone. Ever. It just never occurred to… him… oh…

Wet heat surrounded his erection and he rocked forward without meaning to. He braced his hands on the curved particle barrier wall of their secret globe. The barrier didn’t ripple or glow where he touched. It would keep their secrets here, in the dark, out of sight but within view of everyone. Lance could see people darting towards globes in twos and threes, one group even had four. He could see them, but they couldn’t see him. Funny how arousing that thought was.

Teeth scraped gently along his length and he moaned, bucking into Keith’s mouth harder than he’d meant to. Then fingers were pushing against his lips. He closed his mouth around the digits with a groan and sucked. He whimpered, feeling his erection twitch.

Frell, Keith knew he liked this. He hummed around the fingers as he licked them. He loved having things in his mouth. It was a guilty pleasure that he took full advantage of right now. Then the fingers were gone and he whined, mourning their loss.

“Easy,” Keith murmured, kissing the tip of Lance’ penis like the tease he was. “Easy. Just be patient.”

Rich coming from Keith of all people.

He felt Keith’s calloused hands return to his rear and part his cheeks before pressing on his entrance. Oh. Oh ‘Verse. Yes. Yes, please.

He pushed back, frowning in embarrassed frustration when Keith chuckled. But then a wet finger breached him and his annoyance fled. Pleasure waved through his body causing him to shiver and thrust down, right back into Keith’s mouth.

“Oh ‘Verse,” he gasped, mouth falling open.

He tried to keep his eyes open but his eyelids kept drooping and it felt so frelling good. Frak it all, he wanted to be quiznaked _now_.

“More,” he managed, licking his suddenly dry lips. “I need… another…”

Instead of obeying his breathless plea, Keith growled around his mouthful and hooked the one finger currently pushed in up to the second knuckle. Lance cried out, his hips instinctively thrusting back into the intrusion. He shook his head to clear it of the fog of pleasure. No such luck.

It felt so weird, but so, _so_ good. Finally, Keith had mercy and added a second finger. He hissed at the sting as his muscles were encouraged to relax and open wide. It became a game of breathe, roll forward slowly, roll back hard, and repeat. Or it was, until Keith added a third finger. It hurt but it wasn’t anywhere near as bad as the worse Lance had ever experienced.

After a few doboshes, Lance was barely in control of his breathing, rocking, or words. He knew he was pleading for more, for harder, for now, for Keith to _do something_ but he couldn’t bring himself to feel ashamed or embarrassed. He just _wanted_ and _needed_ and _had to have_. All of it. Right now.

The three fingers hooked and he almost shouted when they hit something deep inside him that was almost enough to make him spill. Thank the ‘Verse Keith had pulled Lance’s erection out of his mouth. If it had still been there, the added sensation would have easily thrown Lance over the edge. As it was, he was just crouching over Keith’s face, shaking and whimpering and _needing_.

* * *

With a series of tender kisses, Keith pulled his fingers out of Lance’s ass and eased the quivering Druid down onto the cushions next to him.

“Shh,” he breathed, kissing Lance’s dry lips gently. “Easy. Here.”

He stuck the fingers of his other hand into Lance’s eager mouth and left them there while the Druid recovered. He wanted this to last. He planned on dragging Lance to the brink and back several times before finally allowing him release.

Pulling his hand free, he kissed his boyfriend on the mouth once more. “Roll over,” he murmured, nudging the needy body with his own.

He waited until Lance’s tattooed back was flush against his chest, planting another kiss on the Druid’s shoulder. Then he looped his arms around Lance hips, pulling him closer, and slipped a leg between Lance’s legs.

“Good boy,” Keith murmured with a smile.

He didn’t miss the way Lance tensed beneath him at those words. Well, well. He straightened Lance’s oh so beautiful bare legs out straight between his own and straddled his boyfriend’s perfect ass.

“Ready?” he whispered, nipping the pointed ear closest to his mouth.

Lance nodded and ground back against Keith’s crotch. Fuck, what did he do to deserve Lance? Pulling one arm back, Keith tugged his pants down to his knees, kicking them the rest of the way off.

“Good boy,” he said again, leaning over to kiss a slow trail down Lance’s spine. Sitting up, he positioned himself at Lance’s entrance and pushed in slowly. “Ah, fuck,” he groaned.

So hot. It was so hot and fucking tight, _damn it_. He braced his hands on the cushion on either side of the Lance’s head and just breathed. In, and out. Lance was so fucking tight.

“Oh frell,” Lance moaned, shuddering beneath him and Keith nearly lost it.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Keith groaned. “Oh god, Lance.”

He swallowed and counted to ten before slowly pulling out then thrusting back in. Lance whined, his hips pushing back to meet him. Damn it. What did Keith do to deserve such a perfect, fucking boyfriend?

He wanted to hold Lance down and fuck him stupid, make him scream, carve himself into that perfect body. But he’d do that later, after he brought Lance to the brink and back. A couple times. He grinned and picked up his pace, settling into a rhythm of quick thrusts and slow withdrawals that left Lance a gasping and shaking mess.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, leaning down so he lay flush against Lance’s back. He kissed the vulnerable neck while his hips continued to thrust in sharply and pull out slowly. Long fingered hands spasmed, grasping handfuls of the cushion, tightening with every sharp thrust. Each murmured plea, breathless gasp, and hoarse cry was a gift that Keith intended to treasure.

When Lance’s hips stuttered, Keith deliberately pushed all the way in and held still. Much to Lance’s vocal displeasure.

* * *

“No. No, please. _Please!”_ he cried. “Don’t stop. Don’t- I need-”

He pushed his hips back into Keith wanting, _needing_ that rhythm. He was so frelling close. Just a little more. He just need a little more.

He felt Keith shift above him and gasped when his body was dragged along with his lover’s until they were both lying on their sides. Keith pulled one of Lance’s legs back and held it up so he could easy thrust exactly where Lance wanted him. But he didn’t move! Why didn’t he _move?_

“Keith!” Lance pleaded.

He felt one of Keith’s hands turn his head just enough for lips to close over his. He kissed Keith deeply, begging with his body for his lover to move and finish him. But Keith simply kissed him and held him and slowly, sluggishly, the urgency drifted away. It wasn’t far. It wouldn’t take much to get back there, but for now the edge was dulled.

After a dobosh or so, he began to relax in Keith’s embrace. Naturally, that was when Keith began to move again. Except this time, Keith wasn’t slow or gentle. His hips thrust into Lance hard enough for Lance to hear the slap of flesh fill the globe.

“Yes. Yes. Keith, yes. Please,” he pleaded between wordless gasps. “Harder. Come on. Almost. Please!”

Keith held him close and rocked into him, murmuring into Lance’s ear how much he loved him, how badly he wanted him, and how he would make him come hard. Yes. Frakking frell, _yes!_

Lance reached back to grab a fistful of Keith’s hair and pulled, enjoying his lover’s growl of pleasure. He was so close. His other hand moved to grab his neglected erection, but Keith’s free hand caught him.

And he _stopped. Again!_

“Keith!”

He writhed, desperately trying to find the friction and pressure that he craved. Keith’s thumb caressed the scar on his wrist and teeth bit his ear. Lance’s entire body jolted, hypersensitive and _so fucking close!_

“Lance,” Keith whispered.

He pushed Lance back onto his stomach and _moved._ In, sharp and deep, and out, slow and luxurious. One strong hand planted itself between his shoulder blades right over the tattoo while the other hand gripped Lance’s head, two fingers pressing against his eye scale. Each downward thrust increased the pressure holding his body pinned to the cushion, keeping him there while Keith moved. Gradually, the pace picked back up to the speed Lance craved, every thrust hitting _right there._ Oh ‘Verse yes, please!

“Fuck, Lance,” Keith gasped, thrusting hard and fast. “I want to come inside you.”

“Oh ‘Verse,” Lance groaned, burying his face in a pillow to drown out his cries. His legs, pinned beneath Keith’s weight kicked weakly as he tried to find something to hold onto, something to give him leverage.

“No,” Keith grunted, digging his fingers into Lance’s hair and pulling. “I want to hear you. I want to hear you, Lance.”

He couldn’t stop the words. He didn’t even know what he was saying. All he could think about was Keith and please right _therequiznaksogoodyesplease!_

“Fuck, Lance, you’re so beautiful,” Keith groaned, leaning down to kiss Lance’s sweaty hair.

“Keith. Keith plea- _Ah!”_

He may have said something else, but he couldn’t remember anything except Keith and relief and intense pleasure and so _full._ He couldn’t move and his entire body was humming like a Myr’s song to the tune of Keith’s heartbeat. He lay limp and sated on the cushion while Keith pulled out of him, moaning when stickiness leaked out of him.

A wet mouth pressed a kiss to the back of his neck and between his shoulder blades. Keith. Keith. Every gasp came with a wordless sound until he could finally feel his heartbeat ease back to a sluggish, healthy rhythm. He was exhausted and sated and thrilled and so many other things that his sex drugged mind was too tired to think of.

“Lance,” Keith whispered, his breath brushing against Lance’s ear. Fingers tapped his scale playfully before pressing and rubbing, sending desires and wishes and wants and needs and _memories of him screaming-_

“Keith,” he whined, trying to shake off the embarrassing catches of thought.

The paladin merely smiled and nuzzled him. “Care to go again?”

Lance laughed. “I won’t be getting any sleep tonight, will I?” he teased, tilting his head to meet Keith for a leisurely kiss.

“Not if I have anything to say about it, no,” Keith grinned, already pressing back into him.


	51. Report

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lotor views Narti's report and Pidge makes a surprising connection.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! It's 2018 and I'm sorry for the delay in updating. I took a couple days off to rest and relax for the holidays. But now that I've stayed up for the new year, I'm crashing. Hard. So enjoy this little chapter while I sleep. Night!~

Lotor studied the report on the datapad in his hands, then lifted his gaze to Narti. If this report was accurate, and he had no reason to assume it wasn’t, then he might have just stumbled on something that could change his position in the current political field of the Galra Empire.

He’d always known the Druids were not Galra. It was painfully obvious in the way they moved, breathed, and fought. But he had never been able to identify their species. They were meticulous about everything they did. Their robes were thick and resistant to normal blades, their hands were safely tucked away in their long sleeves when they weren’t using their quintessence, and they masked their faces. All except for High Master Haggar.

Or was it High Priestess Haggar? That seemed to be another incongruity he’d accidentally stumbled on. When asked, most Druids referred to Haggar as High Master. But a few, a very _select_ few known as the Druids of the Four Directions, referred to her as High Priestess. Those Druids had been notoriously hard to get near without detecting his spies’ presence. There was also just something… off about them.

But, however unusual and secretive the Druids were about their identities, they still had one weakness. Whatever their race was, they were inherently a protective species. They went out of their way to protect any charges assigned to them, even if it meant dying. But, strangely, they never seemed to form bonds with their charges. Ever.

Most Galra who were trained by their commanding officer would willingly choose to work under that same commanding officer if given half the chance. Loyalty ran deep in the Galra culture. But the Druids could change from crew to crew and repeatedly be assigned different charges without problem or risk of attachments. It was, quite frankly, disturbing to witness.

It made the Druids dangerous. Well, more than they already were.

But between Ezor’s eavesdropping and Narti’s spying, Lotor now not only had a growing suspicion regarding the Druids’ heritage, he had successfully found their home world. And, quite possibly, an ally.

“You’re sure?” he said, focusing his gaze to Narti.

Narti may be blind and mute, but she was one of his most trusted generals. He knew she wasn’t exaggerating, she was painfully blunt when she needed to be, but news like this… He needed to be absolutely sure before he made a move he might regret.

She nodded and Lotor set the datapad down on the arm of his command seat. The view screens covering the front of the bridge of his command ship displayed the current system they hovered in. It was an old system, abandoned due to the host star’s irregular yet powerful and deadly solar storms. Funny how something as complex and deadly as a solar storm could calm Lotor’s racing thoughts better than the silence hanging over the bridge.

No one spoke.

“Well, ladies,” Lotor said finally, leaning back in his seat, “it would appear we’ve stumbled upon a rather interesting conundrum.”

“Sir?” Acxa said, straightening from her place by the flight console.

“Apparently the Druids _do_ have a home planet,” Lotor said, glancing at Acxa. “Narti paid them a visit. Barely got out alive too, as I understand.” He rubbed his chin and frowned in thought.

“She was caught?”

Ah, Zethrid. Always trigger happy. Very useful in battle and ever entertaining and amusing. But there was more to her than just weaponry, most of the time. She did not like it when one of her team was attacked. She tended to act… well, rashly.

“Not in so many words,” Lotor said even as Narti shook her head negatively. “A Druid did spot her and fight her. But she did not kill him.” He lifted an eyebrow at his silent general, noticing the way her cat Kova lifted its head to observe him. “Because the Druid claimed loyalty to me.”

“What?” Acxa gasped.

“Oh! Really? That’s so exciting,” Ezor said, clasping her hands together.

“It sounds good, alright,” Zethrid said, crossing her arms and tilting her head. “But it sounds too good to be true.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Lotor admitted, nodding. He held out a hand to Narti. “Could you show me what you saw?” he asked.

Narti nodded and placed her scaled hand in his and-

_Fast! Young. Saltwater and spice. Left. Kova- Blue eyes in a dark face. Blue eye scales and brown hair like Druid robes. Blue hood. Druid? Her hand was around his neck, squeezing, choking, silencing-_

_“You’re… not a… Breeder.”_

_Confusion. Mild interest. Mission. Focus on the mission. Learn what she could and silence the witness. She pressed her influence on his mind-_

_Cold! Pain! How?! Kova!_

_She was sprawled on the grown surrounded by streams of running water and steam. The Druid was coughing and scrambling towards the young noncombatant. She had no desire to involve the young noncombatant, so she stopped the Druid before he could get close._

_Saltwater and spice, combined with the memory of Kova’s sight, moved right. Just -splash- **there!**_

_She lashed out with her tail and captured what felt like a wrist, yanking the Druid back and pouncing on his back. She attempted to reestablish the mental connection once more. But this one’s mind resisted her harder than any other mind she had ever attempted to subvert. It was also frigid. Like those walls of ice she’d seen through Kova’s eyes on the mainland of this strange planet._

**_Gone?!_ ** _Where?!_

_A pained scream from her right. Kova shared his sight once more just as saltwater and spice stumbled out of a stream of water. She leapt, listening to the Druid’s gasping breath, and gripped the combatant’s head. Smooth cool met the tips of her fingers and she dug her nails in, satisfied by the combatant’s choked scream._

_ :Shock. Terror. Pain! Stop!: _

_What? Not her thoughts!_

_ :Stop! Please. Plea- Lot-: _

_“-or?”_

_Shock. **Her** shock. **Her** thought. She pressed her influence onto the Druid. Less resistance. Still frigid and treacherous as thin ice, but thin nonetheless. She cracked the cold resistance. She could feel him fighting, his foreign thoughts pleading with her to stop, to have mercy, that he was loyal to the Empire, that he was loyal to-_

_“Lo… tor… vre… pit… sa…”_

_Shock. How? He should be beyond words. Her influence was almost complete. How…?_

_“Taa… vi…”_

_ :Help! Please!: _

_The resistance shattered like splinters of ice, and she smothered the last mental plea for aid. She felt the Druid’s consciousness retreat somewhere she didn’t bother following. The Druid was hers now._

_She shifted through thoughts and memories, seeking information. The Druid knew she worked for Lotor. How? A flash of orange and blue from eyes clouded by fear and pain- Ah. He recognized her lord’s seal. Yet claiming loyalty to him?_

_Truth. There was no lie here. This Druid hated Zarkon. Why? Catches of emotion and memory -the Lions of Voltron attacking the Central Command System, **kept** there by Zarkon, the rings destroyed, rebellion, the Blue Lion, **ICE!**_

_Instinctively, she flinched from the biting cold. Ice. Blue Lion. Paladin. The Druid was a paladin of a Lion of Voltron, hated Zarkon, and claimed loyalty to Lotor and the Empire… and someone else._

_Who? She sifted through thoughts. Violet eyes, dark hair, pale skin. Paladin, red, fire, instinct, opposite, perfect, desire, charge by choice, Chosen…_

_Odd. She could not change those perceptions. They were too scorching hot for her to attempt it. So different from the lingering cold that filled this Druid’s mind. This could be useful. She fingered the threads of this Druid’s consciousness. They were flexible, adaptable, but anchored firmly. She would have to be swift and delicate._

_She wove her influence between the threads of the Druid’s mental self like the fine silk of the deadly shethi plant. Here, her web would remain untouched and undisturbed until such catalysts were met. To have a Druid in her grasp, should she ever need it, would be a useful tool._

_Besides, she needed to escape while she had the chance. She’d been surprised by the young noncombatant and taken steps to be sure the child would remain unharmed. But the Druid had been a welcome surprise. Useful._

_One last command. No resistance. She provided the required memory: the smells and sounds and feel from her own and the sight borrowed from Kova. The air changed, lighter, cooler, fresher, saltier. The sounds changed, roaring dully beneath the thrum of what she knew to be rain, and the subtle vibrations of the erupting volcano._

_Kova flicked her neck with his tail and she saw the Druid’s eyes shine in the dim light of her small ship. The Druid’s face was slack and passive, waiting for her next command. For a Druid, this one was… fascinating._

_She no longer needed him. For now. She commanded him to return to the young noncombatant, to watch and protect until the child woke. And to watch the paladin that burned, the one the Druid **chose** as his charge. Chose, not assigned. His Chosen._

_Watch, protect, and wait for her next command._

_She withdrew her hand from the Druid’s face and with it, her influence on the Druid’s mind. She heard the soft rush of air indicative of a teleport and focused on getting off this odd planet. She had no desire to have contact with the… things in the sea._

-Lotor breathed. Narti tilted her head in a silent inquiry. She knew how her influence could temporarily or permanently cloud a person’s mind. It wasn’t always intended, but it happened nonetheless.

He stood and patted her shoulder as he strode past. Kova purred when he brushed his fingers briefly against the feline’s ear.

“Lotor?” Acxa said, her frown creased with worry. “What is it?”

Lotor stared at the cantankerous star glowing on the zoomed in display and gathered his thoughts. “We may have an ally where we least expect it,” he said. “The Druid Narti fought is indeed loyal to me.” He grinned. “He’s also a paladin of the Blue Lion of Voltron.”

“What?!”

Lotor winced. Honestly, how Ezor could reach that register and not harm her own ears never ceased to amaze him. It was slightly terrifying.

“How can he be a paladin of Voltron if he’s loyal to you?” Acxa asked, rubbing a sore ear.

“I don’t know the details,” Lotor admitted. “Narti didn’t have much time to dig any deeper either. But he _is_ loyal to me.” He paused, considering his words carefully. “Or perhaps, he is loyal to the Galra Empire and believes I would do a better job as the Emperor than my father.”

Ezor gasped. “But that’s treason.”

Lotor glanced at his colorful general with a wry smirk. “Then I suppose it’s a good thing I’ve been exiled then, isn’t it?” he teased. “I can do and say what I wish without repercussions. For the most part, anyway.”

Ezor chuckled and Acxa sighed. Zethrid, however, grumbled.

“I don’t like it,” she said, glaring at the star on the view screens. “It seems too convenient.”

“I would agree,” Lotor said, nodding. “But I felt the Druid’s mind through Narti.” He turned back to his silent general thoughtfully. “Thoughts do not lie. They can be twisted, but they do not outright lie.”

“Fine,” Zethrid said. “So he prefers you over Zarkon. So what? That’s one Druid on a planet full of them. Not to mention however many of those crazy bastards there are in space. Haggar is a dirty hag, but she’s powerful enough to make even me wary.”

Lotor hummed. “Unfortunately, I agree. We can’t make an official move just yet. But we may be able to work with what we have for a while longer.”

He leaned against the console and considered his options. There weren’t as many as he would prefer, but they were workable.

“Narti,” he said, “how long will your thought web hold?”

The silent general tilted her head before shrugging. So she wasn’t sure, but she doubted it would fade fast.

“Very well. I can work with that,” he murmured. “Acxa, what do you know about weblums?”

* * *

Space elves. Damn it all. She did _not_ want to play _Dungeons and Dragons_. There weren’t any computers involved. Man. Of all the creatures in existence in the entire freaking universe, they just had to be space elves. Her luck sucked balls.

Pidge crouched low to the wooden pathway and stared at the figures swaying and dancing by a colorful bonfire. First of all, why on earth would someone deliberately light a huge fire in a huge ass tree? Like, seriously, how stupid was that? Second of all, judging from the faint whiffs she was getting from the people who walked by, Pidge was fairly certain most of them were drunk.

But more important than anything else, these people were strange. Some gave her the willies like woah, while the rest were alright. It was the weirdest thing. It was like walking into a room and just _knowing_ someone was watching you but having no damn idea _who_ was watching you from _where._ Ugh, it was so fucking creepy.

That wasn’t the worst of it. There was something almost familiar about these space elves. Was it just her imagination running wild -it was late after all, wasn’t it?- or did these people, these space elves, look a lot like Allura and Coran? Minus that ridiculous ginger mustache and elegant dresses.

Actually, no. There was a resemblance to Allura and Coran, but these people looked more like… Okay, so Pidge may not be into D&D but even _she_ knew the difference between High Elves and Wild Elves. If Allura and Coran were High Elves, these people were Wild Elves.  

The way they dressed, the fact they lived in a freaking tree -like seriously, how blatantly elvish was this shit?- and the wild edge she felt when she came near them was just… It reminded her of… No. No way.

Lance. They reminded her of Lance. Even the ones that set off her inner creeper-alert felt like Lance. Or, they felt like Lance before she’d really gotten to know him. Wait. Hold on a second. What was that? She studied an odd reflection of firelight on a child’s cheek, right by his eyes and gasped.

Were these…? Was this…?

“No way,” she breathed.

“What is it?” Ulaz whispered from next to her.

“I… I think I know…” A woman dressed in a crop top and flowing skirt the shade of lavender strode towards Pidge and Ulaz’s hiding spot. _“Down!”_ Pidge hissed.

She ducked, crouching as low to the wood branch as she could get hoping the odd metal and wood floor-like structure nearby would hide her and the Blade of Marmora from view. Thank heavens this big domed thing was empty and unlit. That had been too close.

But now that she’d had a closer look at the woman’s face, or more specifically, her cheeks right by her eyes, Pidge was certain.

“I think these people are Druids like Lance,” she whispered her partner in crime. She couldn’t see Ulaz’s face, but his flinch would have been obvious even to a blind person. “They look like Lance and Allura and Coran,” Pidge continued. “I think these are Alteans.”

“Druids…” Ulaz murmured. “We must leave. Now.”

“No way,” Pidge snapped, quickly looking around to be sure no one her outburst. “No fucking way,” she repeated in a low voice. She glared at the expressionless purple and black mask beneath the Blade of Marmora hood. “If this really is a haven for Alteans, then this could be Lance’s home. This could be the Druids’ home. I am not passing up the opportunity to check this place out.”

“You have only met one Druid, and he became an ally,” Ulaz said in a grim tone. “I am still unsure how your team managed that-”

“Food, honestly,” Pidge said with a shrug.

“-but… Really?”

Was that surprise in the Galra’s voice? Ohoh. Score one for Pidge.

“Yep,” she said with a shit-eating grin. “We caught him in the Castleship’s vents. Turns out he’d been there for almost a wee- a movement before we found him. He hadn’t been able to eat hardly anything. So I caught him, promised him food if he held a truce, and we went from there. He’s been mostly helping us ever since.” Her grin slipped. “He was the first person who told us most of the Galra Empire doesn’t like Zarkon.”

“Ah.” Ulaz nodded as if he finally understood something. “That was why you were willing to believe me more easily than your leader.”

Pidge glowered and rolled her eyes. “Mostly, yeah,” she said with a grimace. “But, to be honest, I think Allura's got a stick up her ass at the moment. I mean, yeah, her home planet and her people may be gone, and the current Emperor may be responsible, I get that. I really do.” She lifted her head and glared directly at where she suspected Ulaz’s eyes were behind the mask. “But just because lots of people do something horrible under an evil leader, doesn’t mean that entire race is evil.” She huffed. “Allura needs to take a chill pill. Geez.”

“Whatcha doing?”

Pidge froze at the unfamiliar voice. It sounded really young. Stunned, she looked up and was met by two pairs of eyes. It was too dark to make out much detail but Pidge could tell one of the peepers was a boy with snow white skin and hair and the other was a girl with longish dark hair. Scales by their eyes glinted in the distant firelight.

“Um.” Oh yes, very intelligent Pidge. Well done. Gold star. “We’re looking for someone.”

“Looking or hiding?” the girl whispered. The boy snorted and snickered quietly next to the little girl.

Pidge saw the movement before Ulaz actually made it. She knew Keith and damn if Ulaz didn’t act like Keith. She grabbed the Galra’s hand, stopping him from reaching for his weapon. They wouldn’t have to deal with this situation with violence.

“Noncombatants,” she murmured as quietly as she could. Ulaz hesitated, but the tension did not leave his body.

“Nonco-what?” the little girl repeated, seemingly oblivious to the danger she could be in.

“Not coming,” Pidge said, grinning beneath her green and white helmet. “We were hiding, but I don’t think our seeker is coming.”

“Oh!” the little boy said, sitting up with a grin. “You’re playing Seek-and-Find? I love that game!”

“You too?” Pidge said, sitting up just enough to see the kids better but not enough to be seen from the other side of the round thing the kids were sitting on. “Hey, maybe you can help us. I think our seeker may have decided to be the hider.”

“What?” the girl gasped. “Without finding you first? That’s cheating!”

Pidge grinned. “Well, not really,” she admitted. “See, we,” she nudged Ulaz, “kind of found him then ran off to hide. But I don’t think he realized we found him.”

“Oh. You have no scales,” the girl said, nodding sagely.

What did scales have to do with hide-and-seek? Oh yeah. Space elf hide-and-seek. Duh.

“Don’t worry,” the girl continued in her best adult voice. “Big brother’s Chosen doesn’t have scales either.”

“Oh yeah? Nice to know we’re not alone,” Pidge said. “Think you can help us find our seeker?”

The girl hesitated, glancing at the boy. For a second, Pidge began to fear she’d screwed up when suddenly, she heard a series of high pitched squeaks that were suspiciously familiar.

No way.

Pidge slowly lifted her head further and stared at a small ball of fluff perched precariously on the little boy’s head.

“Chulatt?!” she gasped.


	52. Unexpected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Keith has an unexpected party, Pidge has an unexpected revelation, and they all receive an unexpected guest, or two, or three...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** I probably won't be able to update tomorrow, but I will on Friday if I can. For anyone who's curious what an 'amphithere' is, it's is basically a legless dragon with wings, often feathered or furred. Here's a cool link to a pic of one: https://d.wattpad.com/story_parts/184337362/images/1416032e6c8724bf.jpg
> 
> If anyone can guess why it's glowing purple before the reveal next chapter, kudos to you. ^_^

Keith shifted under the covers. He was exhausted and achy from his and Lance’s escapades. Seriously, those legs… So long and _flexible_ holy shit! He was smiling like an idiot but he could really care less. Lance was out and couldn’t be woken. Not that Keith tried.

Lance was nestled close to Keith, his head just under the red paladin’s chin. Keith could feel every exhale brush his neck and knew _he_ was the cause of that exhaustion. He was so proud of both himself and Lance. Damn, the crazy Druid could take what Keith gave him and _still_ beg for more.

What had Keith done to deserve a lover like Lance?

He smiled and pressed a soft kiss to his boyfriend’s - _boyfriend! Lance_ was _his boyfriend!_ \- brown hair. The strands were sticking up every which way from where Keith had grabbed, clung, and just run his fingers through. It was adorable.

Carefully, doing his best not to disturb his boyfriend, his shifted just enough so his leg could loop around Lance’s. He ran his knuckles up and down his boyfriend’s spine, rubbing gentle circles between the shoulder blades. He was just so happy and comfortable right now, he thought he might die.

Not really, but basically.

And yes, he was grinning like a lunatic again. He was just so ridiculously content he could barely think about anything except that. He remembered the way Lance could barely keep his eyes open after the last time he came, shaking and hypersensitive and whispering with a hoarse voice for mercy. Keith had kissed him leisurely and cleaned them up.

There wasn’t much Keith could do about the cushion beneath them, but he draped a thick blanket over where they’d… well, made a mess, and then just laid down. By then, Lance was out cold and had stayed that way since.

Keith was so ridiculously pleased. Damn it. He felt so freaking giddy, it was stupid. He had gathered the pillows from around the globe and tucked them around himself and Lance so they were basically in a pillow nest. Lance certainly seemed to enjoy that, snuggling into the warm softness.

Nuzzling his boyfriend’s soft, messy hair, he closed his eyes and sighed peacefully. He just wanted to sleep the night away with Lance. Everything was perfect. Here, in this little globe in the Vuana’s ‘lantern district,’ Keith could forget about the Galra, about Voltron, about the war, about the volcano and the hurricane and the Breeders and just… everything. Here, everything was perfect.

Naturally, that was when the hairs on the back of his neck and arms stood on end.

Fuck. He was too tired for this.

Opening his eyes, he glared out through the transparent particle barriers surrounding the globe. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. It was pith black dark except for a few twinkling lanterns and flashes of lightning. He could see a couple Vuana moving around, but otherwise it was quiet.

Eerily quiet.

He stiffened when a soft tapping sound hit the globe entrance at his feet. Immediately, he lifted his head and stared at the door where an odd little contraption that looked suspiciously like a small, glowing dragon hovered.

…are you kidding him, right now? What kind of dream was this? He was dreaming right?

Checked to be sure Lance was still asleep, Keith rubbed a hand down his boyfriend’s back and began untangling his legs from Lance’s. Lance sighed once when Keith pulled away, taking his body heat with him, but made no other sound. Petting the messy hair one last time, Keith crawled over the blanket to the entrance, taking care to avoid Lance’s form.

On closer inspection, the little dragon thing wasn’t really a dragon. It had no legs whatsoever, but it did have two, big wings that beat the air to keep it aloft. But perhaps the oddest thing about it, or perhaps the most disturbing, was the purple glow emanating from the draconic creature’s innards.

No, the thing was literally glowing. From the inside. Come to think of it, parts of the critter were metal too. It almost looked like a cybernetic dragon. Cyborg dragon? Thing? Ish? Was that even real?

Keith shot a wry glance back at Lance sleeping away oblivious to everything and snickered. Well, giant space Lions were real. Space magic was real. Space wizards were real. And so were mermaids and space elves. Hell, Keith had fucked a space elf unconscious. Why couldn’t a glowing, cybernetic dragon thing exist?

However, that still left the lingering question: what the hell was a glowing, cybernetic dragon hovering in front of the door where Keith just fucked Lance stupid? Was this like the landlord come to kick them out because they used up their time limit? Maybe he was thinking too much into it.

Either way, he wasn’t going to open the door to some strange critter that he had no knowledge of. Right. Besides, he didn’t hear anything. Nope. Nothing at all. He was sleeping. _Sleeping._ You here that stupid glowy dragon-thing? Keith was sleeping.

Now go away.

Dismissing the creature entirely, Keith turned around and began crawling over the blanket and pillows back to the Keith-shaped spot next to Lance. Just as he was getting comfortable, something knocked on the entry again. Deliberately, he closed his eyes and ignored it. The critter would go away eventually.

He was _sleeping!_

The knocking came again, but this time it sounded like a person knocking. Ugh, _why?_ He squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face in his boyfriend’s hair. The knocking changed to a banging and Keith growled low in his throat. He was going to _throttle_ whoever thought it was okay to keep him from sleeping with his boyfriend in post coital bliss or so help him…

It was a person. An actual person. No, wait, two people actually. Holy shit, _three? And_ a glowy cybernetic dragon thing? What even?

Wait. Those first two were short. And familiar. Two faces plastered themselves against the door and Keith stared in dawning horror. Alve? Ran?! Why were they here? Where they even allowed up here? Why would-

His skin prickled and he paled. A Breeder was nearby. What if the kids were running from it?

Forgetting any anger or annoyance he’d felt moment before, Keith scrambled across the blanket and pillows to the door. He swiped his pants, pulling them on so he would be at least somewhat decent, and pressed his hand against the panel by the door. The particle barrier lifted and he suddenly had his hands full of Alve and Ran and a squealing blue mouse.

“I _knew_ you’d be here!” Alve trilled. She smacked her brother with a playful fist. “Told you it would work.”

“Shut up,” Ran grumbled, sitting back and grabbing the fluttering legless dragon from the air and petting it. “Is big brother here too?”

Chulatt trilled and jumped from its perch on top of Alve’s head to Keith’s bare chest. He winced when tiny claws brushed his sensitive nipples before the mouse settled on his shoulder and nuzzled his neck.

Keith sat on his butt, his cheeks flushed red with embarrassment, and his arms full of kids and just… stared. After a second or two of blinking like an idiot with his mouth hanging open like a fly catcher, he began to fully comprehend what was happening and what he was seeing. He was only wearing pants.

Wait a second. What the _fuck_ were underage _kids_ doing in a red-light district?!

He gulped. “Um, what are you-”

“Keith?! Dude, do you have any idea how hard you are to find?”

Oh. Shit. Please don’t be- Come on. Please, no.

He looked up and yes, he was indeed fucked.

“P-Pidge?” he squeaked.

No shame. Yes, he squeaked. He wasn’t even going to bother hiding it. Pidge was sitting at the door to the _sex globe_ smirking at him victoriously and did she even know what this place was? Did the _kids_ know? Well, they did know, sort of -Alve’s description of what she’d seen in one of these was very… ahem, clear-ish- but did they _know?_

Pidge grinned and shot him a playfully irreverent salute. “Yo. Ready to get out of here?” she said, grinning proudly.

“Uh… N-no?” he stuttered.

“What?” Pidge scoffed incredulously. “Why not?”

A shadow moved behind Pidge just as the hairs on the back of Keith’s neck stood on end. He saw the tell-tale glint of metal and _moved._ He leapt forward, knocking the kids off his lap and grabbing his knife. He gripped Pidge’s armored shoulder and yanked her into the globe, ignoring her startled cry and slashing viciously at the tall, dark shadow.

“Keith! What’re you doing?!” Pidge gasped.

The hooded person flinched back, drawing its own knife and blocking Keith’s strike before it could connect. The stranger was obviously taller and physically stronger than Keith, but the red paladin had surprise and speed on his side. Also, the stranger had been squatting when Keith attacked so their balance was questionable at best.

“Breeder,” he spat forcing all of his weight against the hooded stranger, smirking when he felt them wobble precariously.

Keith hesitated when he got a better look at the stranger’s face. What he'd thought was a purple lantern reflecting on something underneath the stranger’s hood was actually a mask. Breeders didn't dress like this.

His confidence wavered just long enough for someone to snatch a handful of his hair and yank him backwards. He landed inelegantly on the cushions inside the globe with a pained yelp. That had _hurt,_ damn it.

* * *

“What the hell, Pidge!” Keith snarled at her, rubbing his aching head gingerly but still clutching his knife in a ready position.

She did feel kind of bad. She had ripped out more than a few hairs from Keith’s head. She was a girl. She _knew_ how painful that was. Even Chulatt hadn’t been able to hold onto Keith’s bare skin from the force of her pull. The poor mouse had flown back, spinning through the air and landing on the cushioned floor of the round room behind the red paladin.

 But what was Keith’s problem? Why had he attacked Ulaz like that?

“He’s a friend, Keith,” she said fiercely, trying to keep her voice low. The last thing she needed was for Keith’s little outburst to attract unwanted attention.

“What?” Keith said, shooting her an angry frown.

“He helped me get in this place,” she insisted. “I wasn’t expecting to find you, but I’m not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Where’s the Red Lion? And where’s Lance? Is he with you?”

Keith’s face burned bright red and Pidge frowned. She was missing something. Something behind Keith shifted in the dim light followed by a low groan, catching her attention.

“What’s going on?” Alve said, pushing herself up from the cushion. There were tears brimming her eyes and Ran looked absolutely furious. For a kid, anyway.

“Why’d you push my sister?” Ran shouted at Keith.

Pidge winced and quickly stuck her head out of the globe to make sure no one had followed them. Something caught the light of a few dim lanterns further down the path and she gulped. That person… Something about them felt… off.

“Get in!” she hissed to Ulaz, reaching out to pull the Blade of Marmora inside.

But, surprisingly, Keith was faster. The red paladin grabbing Ulaz by the hood and pulled the unsuspecting Galra into the tightly confined space. There was a muffled cry of pained surprise from the bed, but Keith ignored it. He slammed his free hand against the control panel by the entry and, instantly, a clear particle barrier activated, sealing everyone inside.

“Keith, what the hell is going on?” Pidge said, sitting up from the squished position she’d landed in. This room was really small with five people squished inside. Make that six, there was someone else over on the far side of this thing. How had she missed that?

“Whatever you do, do _not_ say a word,” Keith hissed, his voice a tense whisper as he glared out through the particle barrier, knife held in a white knuckled fist.

Ran stamped his foot and let go of his little pet. “Don’t tell me what to-”

“Ran,” Keith said, grabbing the little boy and pushing him behind him. “I promise to explain everything, but right now I need you to stay quiet.”

“But you pus-”

“Ugh, get _off_ me!”

No freaking way. Pidge whipped her head around and stared at the sixth person in surprise. Sure enough, none other than Lance the crazy Druid sat up and practically tossed a hapless Ulaz off his back. Chulatt chittered and scampered up onto Lance’s head, squeaking and nuzzling the very messy brown hair.

“Lance?” she gasped. “What are you-”

A hand slapped over her open mouth, silencing her. She glared at Keith and prepared to give him a very sharp, very _shocking_ piece of her mind… when she saw the fear and hate in his eyes. She hesitated. She could always electrocute him later, she supposed.

Besides, she was more interested in staring at Lance who was currently topless and digging around in the pillows for something. Keith removed his hand from her mouth and she moved to lift her hand from where it had been braced, and frowned when she felt resistance. Looking down, she pulled up whatever had been wrapped around her hand.

Pants? Why would…

Oh. _Oh!_ What the- No _fucking_ way! _Literally!_

“You guys _fucked?!”_ she practically shouted.

The blush on Keith’s face would have been a dead giveaway even if he hadn’t frozen stiff. Lance, however, was almost comical. The crazy Druid spun around, shirt half on, and stared at her for a second, his mouth open and working to find the right words to say.

 _“Pidge?”_ Lance hissed, clutching the corner of the blanket covering his most likely naked body securely over his hips.

“Friends, I assume?” Ulaz said. How the hell did the Galra sound so _calm_ about all this?

“Yeah,” she said, grinning viciously. Whatever Lance had been about to say was smothered by Pidge when she tossed his pants at his face. “Though I think ‘friends with benefits’ fits their status better now.”

“Pidge?” Keith growled low in his throat, glaring heatedly at her. “All of you. Last warning. Shut. Up.”

Yeah. Pidge was definitely missing something. She studied Keith closely, watching him shift his attention back to the round room’s entry. Her eyes flickered to Lance who had also followed Keith’s gaze. But unlike Keith, who practically radiated anger with a hint of fear, Lance’s eyes were wide with blatant fear.

The Druid gulped and pulled his pants on as fast and as decently as he could before reaching for the two children. “Alve, Ran, come here,” he called in a soft whisper.

The little girl crawled into Lance’s arms while Ran plopped down next to Lance, still clutching his pet amphithere. She was surprised to see Lance do a comical double-take at the glowing purple creature in Ran’s arms. But instead of pleasant surprise, Pidge saw shocked dread fill the Druid’s gaze.

“Ran,” Lance said softly, “I’m not mad. But where did you get that?”

The albino boy flushed and cast a guilty glance at his sister, Alve. “We made it,” he admitted, ducking his head shyly. “We wanted to surprise you for your name day.” He sniffed and clutched the glowing creature closer to his chest.

“Don’t be mad,” Alve pleaded, tugging Lance’s shirt to get his attention. “We just wanted to give you a present.”

“I’m not mad,” Lance said, his voice shaking and his eyes so wide Pidge could see white completely surrounding his irises. “I’m not mad,” he said again, lifting his gaze to Keith’s back and the room’s door. “Just… surprised is all.” He licked his lips, the inhuman eye shine flashed to Pidge briefly before settling on the still hooded and masked Ulaz. “Who are you?” he demanded, his voice soft enough to not draw Keith’s wrath.

Not that Pidge expected Keith to be mad at his _fucking_ boyfriend. Hunk owed her _so_ much right now.

 “I am called Ulaz,” the Galra said, although Pidge noticed how he did not remove his mask or hood.

“He’s with me,” she said, drawing Lance’s frazzled attention. “He’s good. I promise.” She nodded seriously. “Our truce still hold?” she asked.

Lance blinked, obviously taken aback. So did Ulaz. The Galra sat up straighter -well, as straight as he could in this seriously cramped space, geez- and stared at Lance with what Pidge hoped was the good kind of interest.

Blue eyes blinked, then Lance pressed his lips together grimly and nodded. “It does,” he said.

Lance swallowed nervously, his shining eyes returning to his boyfriend who was still staring fixedly outside. Honestly what was so…

She shuddered abruptly and looked around her. She was getting that heebie-jeebies feeling again, like someone was watching her. It was creepy as all get out and she did not like it one bit.

“What’s going on?” Alve whispered, probably sensing the tension filling the small room.

Lance wasn’t breathing as steadily as usual. He licked his lips and held the children tightly to his sides. “Ran, Alve,” he whispered, ducking his head so his breath ruffled the children’s hair, “I need you two to be brave right now, alright?”

That wasn’t ominous at all.

“Why?” Ran asked, clutching his glowing pet tighter as he stared up in dawning fear at Lance.

“Just trust me,” Lance murmured, pressing a kiss to the little boy’s head. “I’ll explain everything when this is over, I promise.”

“Is this our fault?” Alve asked, her brown eyes wide. “We didn’t mean to.”

“No, no,” Lance said, running a hand through her hair and pulling her close enough to kiss her forehead. The mouse used the opportunity to hop down from the Druid’s head to settle on Alve’s. “It’s not your fault,” he said. “You did nothing wrong. I’m proud of you both.”

The children may not have seen Lance’s terrified gulp, but Pidge did. “Just do as I say, and everything will be okay, alright?” he said, making eye contact with both children. They nodded. “Okay. Now, I need you to be quiet. As quiet as you can.”

Blue eyes darted up to stare wide-eyed out the globe door. Pidge turned her head to follow the Druid’s gaze and couldn’t stop her own gulp. There was someone there, looking at their room, right at Keith. It was woman with long white hair tied back in a loose braid, tossed carelessly over her shoulders. Pidge couldn’t make out the color of the woman’s eyes due to the uncertain light outside, but she was pretty sure they were light colored.  

Whoever it was, she looked an awful lot like, “Allura?”


	53. Intrusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lance is proud, scared, brave, and subdued while Keith is his usual defiant self. Mostly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** Wow. Totally planned on updating last Friday. Obviously that didn't happen. Whoops~ I'm at the American Meteorological Society (AMS) conference in Austin, TX, through tomorrow. So my free time has been few and far between. It took me until today to sneak writing sections of this one chapter. But at least I've networked, built (hopeful) connections, and (maybe) snuck my foot in the door for potential jobs. I love getting paid.
> 
> Anywho, here's the update. I'll do my best to be quicker with the next update, but it probably won't be until Friday at the earliest. Again.

Lance flinched, clutching Ran and Alve close. His siblings, his precious, precious siblings could use quintessence. More than that. They could use _black_ quintessence. That tell-tale violet glow of the quintessence humming inside the mechanical amphithere reacted with his own blue quintessence, tingling in his veins.

Ran. Alve. He was so incredibly proud of them, and so incredibly scared for them. Black quintessence was a rare color. Lance couldn’t think of any active Druid on Vuana who used black quintessence. They were all in space serving the Galra Empire. Specifically as the Druids of the Four Directions and their subsect of Breeders. Whether they began doing so willingly or not was up for debate.

Any Vuana who began to show signs of using black quintessence tended to vanish almost as soon as they presented. Perhaps there were a few black quintessence users still on Vuana, but they were obviously wise enough to keep their abilities hidden. Ran and Alve were the right age for a Vuana to begin presenting a color if they were ever destined to wield quintessence. But black?

And not only had they _both_ presented as black quintessence users - _both_ of them?- but they had also managed to hide their abilities from Darja’s watchful eyes. And they had begun to teach themselves how to use their newfound gift. Without any outside help, they had designed and built a machine that the amphithere recognized as an acceptable host for its own quintessence. Then the children had somehow completed a successful transference of the amphithere’s quintessence from the creature’s original, organic body to the new mechanical one.

That was a difficult feat for most Druids to accomplish even with aid. Designing and building a robeast’s body was a tedious process. If the original creature or person’s quintessence didn’t recognize and accept it as a usable host, then the Druid creators would be forced to start from scratch again. If the robeast’s body _was_ deemed acceptable, then the transference of quintessence could begin.

That process required absolute perfection and a strong, sheer force of will. The Druid or Druids performing the transference had to overpower the original creature’s desire to remain in its own body through their own willpower and quintessence. Then maintain a stable hold on the creature’s quintessence during the transference. One slip of concentration and the creature’s quintessence would either be ripped back to the original, organic body or simply cease to be and die. Then, once the creature’s quintessence was safely and securely rooted in its new mechanic body, there was nothing left to do but wait and hope the creature’s quintessence wouldn’t reject the body anyway and die.

In short, Ran and Alve had performed a miracle. On their own. Without being caught. And without causing harm to themselves or anyone or anything else.

Lance was so, _so_ proud of them, and oh so terrified. At least now he had both Keith and Pidge to help him protect his little family. That gave him hope. Unfortunately, the Breeder standing in front of the door to their little room threatened that tenuous hope.

“Lance,” Keith whispered. “I thought no one would disturb us while we were in here.”

“They shouldn’t,” he replied just as quietly. “Doing so is considered a serious taboo.” He swallowed thickly. “Unless a law has been broken or it’s a matter of safety.”

“Fabulous,” Keith grumbled.

The woman reached out and waved her hand over the panel on the outside of the globe by the door and a soft ding rang through the globe. Pidge looked around the for the source of the sound while the masked stranger continued to study Lance. It was… disconcerting.

“What do I do?” Keith said, keeping his tone steady. “Do I have to open it?”

Lance shook his head. “No, you don’t.” He turned his gaze to the woman -who really did resemble Allura now that he thought about it- and frowned. “Unless she starts pounding on the door, or gets a Druid to force it open for her, we don’t have to answer.” He shot a quick glance at Pidge and blushed. “We’re busy, remember?”

And yes, that was a bit of reddening in Keith’s cheeks. That brought a small smile to Lance’s lips, despite the tense situation.

“So what do we do?” Pidge asked hesitantly. “Just sit here and wait for her to leave?”

“Looks that way,” Keith said, sitting back on knees with a grimace.

Lance watched Keith heft his knife, feeling its no doubt familiar, comforting weight. Lance knew from personal experience that, should he need to, Keith was both prepared and fully capable of throwing the small blade swiftly and accurately. Lance would prefer it if the red paladin did not to throw it though, if he could avoid it. Lance still had his bayard stashed somewhere among the pillows but Keith had left his back at Lance’s pod home, which Keith was probably beating himself up over.

“What is the threat?” the hooded stranger asked, startling Lance from his thoughts.

“A Breeder,” Keith growled. “I met her earlier. How did she track us down?”

Lance winced and did his best not to look at the two scared children in his arms who were valiantly trying to keep quiet. He could hear Alve sobbing softly and could feel the hitch in Ran’s breath indicating he was very close to joining his sister. He rubbed his thumb over his siblings’ eye scales, sending them a soothing flow of _:Calm. Proud. Not your fault.:_ to ease their frayed nerves.

_:Fear. Friend? Lance?:_

Offering the little blue mouse on Alve’s head a strained smile, Lance shook his head slowly. _:Enemy. Dangerous. Avoid.:_ He hoped the message got through the way he wanted. Chulatt may have gotten the general warning, but Lance had no way of knowing if the ‘why’ and ‘how’ were clear enough.

_:Not-Allura enemy? Fear?:_

Lance dipped his chin just enough. _:Steal children. Lost. Death. Corrupt.:_ He grimaced and added hesitantly, _:Inbred.:_

Chulatt blinked, unsure, but did not press.

“I do not understand,” the stranger said as another soft ding filled the globe.

“Long story short?” Keith said. “They’re inbred bastards who get a kick out of kidnapping and torturing people. A few of the Vuana, like Lance, can sense them coming, but most can’t.”

“Woah, woah, woah. Vuana?” Pidge said, waving her hand and shaking her head. “What’s a Vuana?” She pointed to Lance and the kids. “I thought you were Altean.”

Lance flinched. And so did the hooded stranger. Interesting. Nevertheless, “We are, technically,” Lance admitted. “Our ancestors were. And we are still close to the Alteans genetically. But…” He sighed and shook his head. “Pidge, you’re smart. Think about it. Do you really think a single race of people will stay the same for 10,000 deca-phoebs? Without any change whatsoever?”

The green paladin blinked, startled, then sat back thoughtfully. “No, I guess not,” she admitted. “So, you’re called Vuana now?”

“Yes. Only the Purebloods can truly be called genetically Altean.” He shuddered. “They aren’t too bad. It’s the Breeders you need to be wary of.”

“You are a Druid.”

Frell that creepy hooded person.

Lance glared at the stranger. “I am,” he said. “And you would do well to remember that. I do not know you. I do not _care_ to know you. Aid us, and I'll leave you be. But if you threaten my home or my people, know that I will destroy you.”

“That’s a bit overdramatic,” Pidge grumbled.

“On the contrary,” Lance said easily. “It would be a mercy.” He stared directly at where he assumed the stranger’s eyes were hidden beneath that eerie black and violet mask and added, “Unless you would prefer I turn you over to _her_ and let High Master Haggar and her loyal followers have their way with you.”

“Hey!”

“Pidge?” Keith interrupted curtly. “Trust me. Leave it.”

“But we have a truce,” she hissed.

“Between me and the green paladin of Voltron, yes,” Lance agreed, trying to ignore the quiet gasps from his siblings. “We do. However, there is no such agreement between me and _you_ ,” he added, facing the silent stranger.

“True enough,” the stranger said, nodding. “One of our own reported a Druid called Lance of the Oceanborne of Vuana had betrayed Zarkon and piloted the Blue Lion of Voltron. I assume that would be you.”

_:Shock. Fear. Betray?! Big brother?:_

Frak him. Frak this… this… _idiot!_ Lance _never_ wanted his siblings to know. He wanted them _safe_ and _unaware._ What they didn’t know couldn’t be tortured out of them. Didn’t this person _know that?_

Unless he didn’t. Think, Lance. _Think!_ Who would know about his betrayal other than the other paladins of Voltron? Who would…

“Blade of Marmora,” he murmured.

The stranger nodded and Lance felt his heart plummet and his mouth dry up. The Blade of Marmora knew about Vuana. He knew about Lance’s people, their home. The Blade had _snuck into their home_ with the shield _active_ without ever being detected. Well, presumably without being detected, he reconsidered glancing at the Breeder who waved her hand by the panel sending another ding through the globe.

What if they _had_ been detected? What if they had been followed? They had lead the Breeder _right to them!_

Control. He needed to control his temper. Now was not the time to blast anything. Leave that job for Keith. Fire burned much more quickly and viciously than the slow, steady grind of ice. Frosty wind fluttered through his mind, coating the threads of his consciousness in rime that rang with the Blue Lion’s hearty agreement. She was with him. She would be there for him when he chose to vent some well-deserved anger.

That reassurance actually calmed him, strangely enough. Taking a slow, deep breath, he closed his eyes and forced himself the calm down.

“Keith,” he said, waiting for his lover to turn and look at him. “Come here and take the children.”

Obediently, Keith tucked his knife in his pants and crawled over to where Lance sat. It took some work for Lance to loosen Ran and Alve’s grip on him. Despite what they now knew about him _:Traitor? No? Why?:_ they still loved him.

Hopefully.

Either way, Lance couldn’t handle the flood of despair and broken trust he felt from brushing their scales. He needed to step back, let them breathe, let _himself_ breathe. If they ultimately decided to hate him, or worse _reject_ him…

Don’t go there. It hasn’t happened. Yet.

“Pidge,” he said, biting back his fear, “hide yourself in the covers. You’re small enough to get away with it.” He eyed her. “Just be sure none of the glowing bits of your armor show.

“Right.”

Without waiting to watch the green paladin burrow into the pillows, Lance turned to the silent Blade. “You, get by the door,” he jerked his head to the decorative cushions and extra blankets by the right side of the door. “Curl up, hide your knife and mask. If you’re caught, I won’t protect you.”

He did keep a suspicious eye on the Blade who crouched by the entry, the violet ‘eyes’ gleaming under the dark hood.

“Turn off the glow of your mask,” Lance commanded. “If it gives you away…”

He didn’t bother finishing his sentence. He knew the threat was received. The Blade drew his hood lower so their face was fully concealed, then something fuzzed briefly near the Blade’s throat and the violet glow vanished. Whatever the Blade had done, it was satisfactory.

“Keith,” Lance said.

“Yeah?”

Taking a deep breath, Lance leaned back and deliberately brushed his scale against his lover’s cheek feeling _:Trust. Love. Fear. Worry.:_ and sending _:Hope. Quiet. Trust. Protect.:_

Another ding and Lance opened the globe door. “What?” he snapped.

The Breeder woman studied him for a moment, a thin white eyebrow sketching a perfect arch over one of her shining green eyes. “Busy?” she asked.

Lance narrowed his eyes in tired annoyance. “We were. You are incredibly rude,” he drawled. “What was so _important_ it couldn’t wait until morning?”

The woman seemed unfazed, crossing her arms and meeting his gaze with the barest hint of amusement. “I saw the most astonishing thing,” she said.

“Oh really?” Lance said, shifting when his lower back rejected his current position rather vehemently. The Breeder noticed the movement and smirked. “Enlighten me, since you’re going to anyway.”

“A couple young Druids,” she said. “They had a quintessence golem with them, a small amphithere. They turned down his path. Surely a Master Druid like yourself would have noticed.”

Lance copied the woman’s perfect eyebrow arch. “In case you didn’t notice where you are, couples aren’t unusual here. I saw a group of four earlier.” He shrugged. “I’ve been a bit busy since.”

“Just a bit?”

Do not twitch. “More than a bit,” he said, grinning. “I was actually sleeping until you so rudely interrupted.”

“Did I?” she purred. “Or did your two siblings arrive first.”

It wasn’t a question. She knew. _Quiznak._

“My siblings are hardly Druids,” Lance said, sitting up straight so the Breeder’s view of the inside of the globe was almost entirely blocked.

“Is that so. Keith?” she called and Lance flinched. “I see you’ve kept yourself busy.”

“Like I said before,” Keith snarled from behind Lance, “fuck you, bitch.”

“I doubt your genetics are worth the trouble,” she shot back.

“Good.”

The Breeder chuckled. “You have lovely siblings, Druid Lance,” she said, her cool gaze settling on his own sending shivers crawling up his spine. “Keep them close. It would be a pity if something happened to that talent.”

Lance stiffened, narrowing his eyes. “Is that a threat?” he said softly.

“Is it?” She smiled and knelt. “Or was it a warning?” She leaned close and brushed her scale against Lance’s, tilting his entire world. “Such a strong blue,” she whispered through the rush of _everything_ through their connection. “I preferred it black.”

He was going to be sick.

She _knew._ She knew _everything_. And she wanted _him_ to know she knew everything. How? Frell it, _how?!_

Fingers brushed one of the scars on his wrist. _:Careful who you trust, Apprentice Lance. There’s a reason why charges are assigned, not chosen.:_ Laughter. _:Or Chosen.:_

He tasted bile. Flashes of him taking what would have been a deathly strike from a red and white bayard, slicing his wrists open, the attacker retreating in the Green Lion’s mouth, and leaving them in a rapidly decompressing room filled his mind. It blinded him, overwhelming him with sight, sound, sensation, and emotion.

None of them were _his._

Blue eyes grew round in terrible understanding. “Master.”

Tendrils of thought - _not his!_ \- brushed something thin and almost not-there weaving between the threads of his sense of self. The foreign thoughts flicked the strands of wispy web like a musician would phorminx strings sending harmonic tremors through his entire consciousness. It echoed with a deep, reverberating tone like a Myr’s call underwater. Almost-words and barely-there desires tingling through him too fast, too close, too far for him to catch and understand.

Tail. No eyes. Nails on his _scales._ Pain. No breath. Hot water. _Why?!_ Loyal to- Invasion! _Stop!_

Then it was gone. All gone. Master Ylva was studying him with cold, sharp green eyes, her fingers pinching his chin delicately. She’d seen something she did not expect, Lance could see it in the downturn of her lips and wary gleam in her eyes.

He wanted to flinch, to retreat into the safety and security of the dark interior of the globe. Back into Keith’s embrace, back under the blankets and nestled in the pillows, back to the way things were before Pidge and the Blade of Marmora had burst in so rudely. He didn’t want to return to Voltron. He didn’t want to fight. He wanted to stay here, safe, with his family and Keith and Blue. This… This was home. And he was watching it slip through his fingers knowing there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Master Ylva grinned. “Fascinating,” she murmured just loud enough for Lance to hear. “Be careful who you trust, Apprentice Lance. You may not be the one who pays the price.”

* * *

Whatever the bitch said to Lance made Keith want to strangle her. He didn’t have to hear the specific words she spoke. The blatant fear in every line of his boyfriend’s back screamed louder than words ever could. She’d threatened Lance, and she’d made it stick.

The bitch stood and brushed herself off with a dismissive bat at her skirt. “I’ll take the knowledge of the Pureblood’s location in exchange for your… guests’ security,” she said.

What? _Shit!_ Did she know about- Damn, he saw poisonous green eyes flick to the side where the Blade of Marmalade was hiding. She did. Why wasn’t she trying to kill them then?

“What Pureblood?” Keith snapped, pushing the shaking children in his lap behind them where they would be safer.

Green shifted from Lance to Keith and he bit back a smirk. Two against one was much better odds. He moved forward, nudging Lance aside so they both sat in front of the doorway, effectively blocking the interior from dangerously curious eyes. A plucked, white eyebrow lifted as did the corner of the Breeder’s mouth.

“A certain young woman who was last seen on the very same platform I left you two on,” she said, crossing her arms. “I had business that demanded my attention and gave my charge to my subordinate. He should be regretting his failure, but since I already suspect where she went, I thought I’d be lenient this time.”

Lance shrank back. Keith pressed his palm between his boyfriend’s shoulder blades, preventing him from retreating any further and offering his unspoken support.

“Unless you know of another Pureblood,” the bitch continued. Damn, Keith hated that smug grin. “Care to enlighten me?”

“Go to hell.”

“I’ve been to Heil,” she replied with and easy shrug that made it increasingly difficult for Keith to hold his temper in check. “It was a bit bland for my tastes.”

She waited, staring at him expectantly. Fuck her, Keith wouldn’t budge. She huffed in amusement and turned her gaze to Lance. Keith pressed his hand firmly against his boyfriend’s back, hoping Lance would draw strength from it.

“Lance?” she encouraged patiently.

For a moment, Lance’s back was rigid beneath Keith’s palm. Then his head bowed and Keith felt his boyfriend wilt beneath the Breeder’s gaze.

“I don’t know,” Lance said softly. “She took a Vuana and left with them for the lanterns. I didn’t see where they went after that.”

What? Why would Lance say that? It didn’t cause any harm to their little group yet, that Keith knew of, but what about the Vuana the Pureblood took with her?

“And the other Pureblood you know of?” she prompted.

He doesn’t know another Pureblood. What is _with_ this bitch? Why won’t she just get the fuck off and leave them alone already? She may look like Allura, but she definitely…

Allura. Coran. The Breeders maintain the genetic purity of the Altean race. By that definition, the princess and Coran would be Purebloods. Oh, damn.

Don’t tell her, Lance. Don’t tell her.

“I… I don’t know,” Lance admitted hesitantly. “I haven’t seen her in… a while.”

“How long?” the woman pressed.

Damn it! Why would Lance answer her!? Unless whatever the bitch said to him that Keith hadn’t heard had more weight than Keith originally thought.

_People can… vanish. Children… vanish._

Oh god, no. Unacceptable!

The Red Lion roared angrily, fueling her paladin’s fury with her own. The Blue Lion was her pridemate and Lance was her pridemate’s paladin. That made him family. Red did _not_ appreciate having her family threatened. Neither did Keith. They held onto what they deemed theirs with jealous obsession.

Besides, now that Keith thought about it, Lance did know another Pureblood. It had just been a bit longer since they met.

“Why does that matter who he slept with before?” Keith snarled, forcing himself between Lance and the Breeder. He stepped out of the globe and drew his knife, feeling the cool, familiar metal against his skin. “I thought you pitied Lance’s genetics. Why be jealous of him now?”

She sniffed. “Please,” she scoffed with a roll of her eyes. “He has enough Myr interfering with his genetics to earn him two tattoos. That’s already more than preferred. Although,” she shot a calculating glance down at Lance’s wilted form, “if you really did sleep with a Pureblood, then I would guess you had to be of an acceptable age. Two deca-phoebs ago was it? Three?”

Lance flinched.

“Three then,” the woman said. “For someone with as much Myr in their genetics as you have, it’s a pity she found you attractive enough to woo.” She turned to leave before pausing and turning back to them as if something had just occurred to her. “You killed them, you know,” she said. “Both of them.”

She was already gone by the time Lance found the strength to whisper a single, thread word.

“Both?”


	54. Big Sister

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Darja is frantic, Keith takes charge, Pidge is confused and not liking this, and Alve has to be the big sister.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **EDIT 3/18/18:** I’m not sure why, but apparently all of my formatting was removed when I originally posted this but I didn’t notice. I’ve fixed it now. Sorry about that.
> 
>  **A/N:** Ok, so it has been a long time since I updated. Sorry about that. I had to take a break because I had to focus on my thesis proposal which is now in committee. Then I'll defend that, then work on my actual thesis, defend that, then I'll have my Masters. Thing is, I gotta do it by August or I'll be homeless and thesis-less. ^^; No pressure or anything.
> 
> Side note: AO3 was being _incredibly_ slow today. Anyone know why? It took me, I kid you not, 20 minutes to open up the the chapter editing page, paste the content, then post it. It was ridiculous stupid. -_-;

Her first thought was annoyance because Alve and Ran had yet again dodged her watch. This wasn't the first time those two had escaped nor would this be the last. At least Taavi was still here. Her baby brother was clinging to her skirts with a death grip the likes of which she had only ever seen him give to Lance on bad nights.

Perhaps that was what first disturbed her calm. Or maybe it was the mysterious ripple in the shield earlier that night. Whatever it was, Darja was no longer sedately looking for her siblings. She was frelling near frantic.

She scooped Taavi into her arms and began running to the higher branches of Yggdrasil. More than a few times, Taavi had begun whimpering, stopping when she turned and ran in another direction. Breeders. Frell. Judging by the frequent fits her baby brother had suffered already, the Breeders were out in force. She tsked, biting her tongue against a curse word.

Still, no amount of looking, running, and asking revealed a hint of Ran or Alve. Her heart was hammering in her chest, but she refused to panic openly. That would draw undue attention and possibly push Taavi over the edge. She couldn't risk either of those outcomes.

She reached another platform with a blazing bonfire in the center. There weren't as many dancers here as there had been earlier in the evening, but there were a few lingering Vuana near the food tables. Unfortunately, she didn't get that far. One step on the platform and Taavi began crying.

Instantly, she stepped back into the dim light over the branch path and considered her options. She could backtrack to the last branch or push forward and hope she made it to one of the far paths without being stopped. Neither option was preferable.

Ran. Alve.

"Frak," she muttered. Taavi hiccupped and Darja grimaced. "Taavi, do as I say, not as I do. You did not hear me say that."

Bless the poor boy. Soft hair brushed her shoulder in a faint nod and she shifted him to a more comfortable position.

Darja never regretted being unable to use quintessence. She had no desire to be a Druid. She'd seen what it did to a person by watching Lance's slow, steady progression into someone she barely knew. The Lance who returned to her dragging his grumpy charge behind him was the brother she missed.

But even returned to his usual self, Lance still acted like a stranger she had never met before. She didn't know the full story of what happened to drive Lance back to Vuana, but she had her suspicions. Lance had told her very little verbally, most likely too afraid of someone overhearing. But he had shared some with her through their scales.

Zarkon had done something unacceptable and driven Lance to action. Judging from Lance's obvious affection for Keith, Darja suspected Zarkon had forced Lance to choose between his duties and his Chosen. Stupid. No Vuana would go against their Chosen, particularly a Druid.

Few Druids even had Chosens among the Vuana and those who did tended to keep it secret. The chances of either one of them vanishing one day was always there, a subliminal threat permeating every tick of every quintant. Even fewer could claim having a Chosen who was not Vuana. The Oceanborne got away with their bonds with the Myr because of who and what they are, but even that was risky.

Lance had Chosen Keith. It was so painfully obvious to anyone who could see. Darja was so proud of her brother and so terribly afraid for him. Now with Ran and Alve missing, her fear had soared to new heights. She couldn't do this by herself. She needed help. But who could she trust?

Lance and, despite her misgivings, Keith. She’d seen the way Keith looked at her brother-by-heart. Keith trusted Lance. Heaving a deep sigh, Darja gripped Taavi close and ran as quickly as she could towards the upper globes. She knew that's where Lance would have taken Keith by now, she had no doubt.

Technically, Taavi was much too young to be allowed up there. But frak the rules, Darja needed help to find her family. She would make sure to personally introduce anyone who tried to stop her from finishing her search to Zarkon's fat smeg.

She blushed. Her language did always sink to the depths when she got stressed. Ugh, she tried so hard to fight it. Oh whatever.

Shoving her thoughts aside, she raced up the branch paths and stairs until she finally reached the upper levels. Now, she just needed to find her brother and his Chosen. That shouldn't be too hard. Please don't prove her wrong.

"Taavi," she whispered to her frightened little brother. "I need you to do something very important for me. Think you can do that?"

Wide, teary green eyes locked on her own black and the little boy nodded, swallowing thickly. She smiled encouragingly and nuzzled Taavi's cheek, brushing her violet scale against his skin sending _:Thanks. Encouragement. Pride. Love. Trust.:_ flowing into him.

"Thank you," she murmured. "I need you to find big brother Lance. Think you can do that for me?"

Green blinked and dropped to the branch they stood on. The boy's pink tongue slipped out and licked his lips before Taavi finally nodded. Vuana bonded with each other. Vuana families could always feel one another no matter how far away they wandered. It was just a faint feeling, a gentle tug constantly pulling them back together. It was stronger in some Vuana than others. It was strongest between Chosen partners. But families, yes even those as broken as Darja perfect mixed family, had strong bonds too.

Taavi was the closest to Lance. Ever since Lance had rescued little Taavi in the Uryd sea three deca-phoebs ago, the little boy had all but imprinted on Lance. Strange since Taavi was much too old to be imprinting. That was usually reserved for the very young. Nonetheless, if anyone could find Lance right now, it was Darja's little Taavi.

Please find him.

Taavi tilted his head and his green eyes grew distant as if listening to a single tone amidst a symphony of sounds. Then green looked up and Darja hiked her skirt up and ran.

* * *

 

"We need to get out of here now!"

Lance was not ok. He hadn't spoken a word since that faint whisper of "both." Both who? Both what? Killed both? Shit, whatever. The Breeder was probably just trying to get under Lance's skin. She succeeded and Keith was seething with fury.

But Pidge was right. They needed to get out of here. Problem is, there were an extra two people -actually four, but it wasn't like Keith was counting or that he'd been busy or was mad about the intrusion or anything Pidge!- in the globe right now. They needed to get Ran and Alve to safety with Darja before he and Lance could slip away from here with Pidge and the Blade of Marmora. He'd have his well deserved revenge for cutting his night short after everyone was back where they belonged.

"Lance?" Ran called, his too-young voice wobbling with tears and fear. "Lance? "

"Ran," Keith said, shifting so he could face the young boy and his sister and that creepy, glowy dragon-thing. "Look, we need to-"

"Is Lance really a traitor?" Alve asked, fear and confusion in her voice.

Oh. Keith could practically feel Lance flinch at his siblings' words.

"No, he isn’t," Keith said in his best impression of Shiro's firm, no-nonsense voice. Both Ran and Alve turned their bright gray and brown eyes to his in hopeful surprise. "Your big brother made a promise and someone tried to make him break it." Keith bit his lip. How far should he take this. "You know about Zarkon, right?"

"Y-yeah," Ran said, unsure.

"Who doesn't?" Alve said, her brown eyes wide.

"Well, Zarkon tried to force Lance to break his promise," Keith explained carefully. "He also killed a bunch of noncombatants who-"

"Whodiwhats?" Alve chirped in blatant confusion.

Crap. Okay. "Innocent people who can't fight back," Keith said. "Zarkon killed a bunch of people who couldn't fight back and tried to get Lance to join him." The horror in the children's eyes was painful. This wasn't something kids should be privy to. "But your big brother fought back. He fought against Zarkon to keep him from hurting people and now that bastard declared Lance a traitor for it. Oh, and, um, don't tell anyone I said that," he added quickly. "It's a secret. Can you keep a secret?"

Alve nodded faster than Ran, but there was still doubt in their eyes. There wasn't much Keith could do about that right now. Or was there?

"Hey idiot," he snapped to the hooded creep still sitting by the globe's entrance. "Next time watch what you say in front of other people." He deliberately tapped his knife safely hooked in his pants. "Or you'll deal with me, that clear?"

For a moment, the hooded person was silent and still. Then they nodded and Keith sat back, satisfied for the time being.

"Look, you boys can swing around your testosterone later," Pidge said. "Right now, we gotta skedaddle. I left Green just outside the shield. Where're Red and Blue?"

"Underwater," Keith said. "We had to move after the volcano erupted."

Keith crawled out of the globe first followed closely by a still silent Lance. Ran and Alve and their little dragon-thing predictably followed their big brother, latching onto Lance's long shirt tails and staying close. Then Pidge made her way out and the hooded person came last. Keith made sure to shoot an angry glare at that guy.

"Alright, listen," he said, catching Pidge's attention. "We need to stay as inconspicuous as possible. Which means you two," he pointed to Ran and Alve, "need to hide your little friend, okay?"

"Too late."

Keith grimaced. "Shit, wha-"

"Lance!"

Now what?!

"Darja?"

Surprised by his boyfriend's voice, Keith glanced at Lance's haggard appearance before drawing his knife and taking a position between his friends and their newest unwelcome guest. It felt weird but familiar when Pidge got up and stood next to him, her inactive bayard in hand and ready to use. It was only after Keith was battle ready that Lance's word sank in.

"Darja?" he gasped. Because that was definitely Darja standing there breathless and sweaty with a tearful Taavi barely sitting on her hip. "What are you doing here?"

Lance's sister ran her obsidian eyes over Keith and Pidge standing protectively between her and Lance, Ran, and Alve. Then her eyes locked on the kids at the blue Druid's side and her eyebrows drew down in confusion.

"Ran? Alve?" she demanded. "What are you two doing up here? You know you're not allowed up here."

"We had to find big brother Lance," Alve whined, clutching her dragon-thing close.

Darja's eyes narrowed as her mind began racing as fast as she'd probably run to get up here.

"Don't be mad at them," Lance said, standing and stepping in front of Keith. "It's my fault. A Breeder came."

All the color in Darja's face drained. Her eyes flashed over Lance and her siblings. She stretched out a hand and immediately both Ran and Alve raced to her. Keith saw the instant she noticed the purple glowy dragon-thing. Her eyes grew impossibly wide and lifted to Lance's in pained shock. Lance winced and nodded.

Keith was missing something.

"Look, this all nice and everything," Pidge interrupted, "but we really have to go."

"We need to go to the water," Lance said, shaking himself visibly. Keith winced. Lance's back had to be aching after their… erm, activities last night. "We need to get them to the Myr."

Darja nodded. "How many can you take with you right now?" she demanded, all business.

Keith could see the grimace on his boyfriend's face. "Only three at a time at most," he admitted.

"Alright," his sister said. She knelt and pulled Ran and Alve into a close hug, nuzzling her scale to each of their cheeks. "Ran, Alve, I need you both to go with your big brother. He's going to take you to the docks then come back for us. Can you promise me you'll stay there until I can join you?"

"Why can't you come too?" Alve said, hugging her dragon-thing close with wide eyes.

"I will be," Darja said, patting Alve's red-brown hair. "But you and your brothers have to go first. Taavi," she said turning to the youngest, "you'll be going with your siblings. Alve, I expect you to watch out for your brothers. Ran," she said before the white-haired boy could argue being 'watched', "I need you to make sure Taavi and Alve stay safe. Is that clear?"

She waited until all three children nodded. Only then did Lance approach and crouch down in front of her, pulling his siblings close to his chest. The next second, he was gone.

"Now," Darja said, standing tall and commanding, "what the frakking quiznak is going on here? Who the frell are you two?" she hissed, glaring viciously at Pidge and the hooded person standing silently behind Keith. "Keith, I trust you because you're my brother's Chosen, but do not think I will let this treachery slide without one quiznak of a good reason. Now, explain."

* * *

 

Alve was the big sister. Well, actually Darja was, but Alve was next biggest. And big sister Darja had told her to watch her little brothers while Lance brought them all to the docks. When they landed there, Alve was a bit dizzy. She always got dizzy when Lance did his blinking places thing.

He called it 'teleporting' but that was such a big word. She much preferred 'blinking.' Blink, and he was gone. Blink, and he was back. So much easier. Like now, he blinked them to the docks. There wasn't anyone else here except them, but she wasn't surprised. Those waves were huge!

The ones inside Yggdrasil's shield weren't as big as the ones outside, but they were still bigger than she ever remembered them being. Lance had blinked them to the highest dock but the waves were almost touching it! The lower docks were all underwater. Wow.

Then her big brother blinked back to get the others leaving Alve alone with her little brothers. She held her pet close. He'd be back.

"Taavi," she called, holding out her hand, "come here."

Her littlest brother's eyes were big and green and she could see him edging towards the water. He jumped when she called him and flushed, crossing his arms huffily.

"I'm not scared," he said.

Alve tried not to roll her eyes at that dumb lie. "Sure you're not," she said.

"I'm not!" Taavi insisted.

Ran snickered but Alve would be the big sister Darja wanted her to be. Which meant maybe lying, a little bit. Just a little bit.

"Okay, you're not scared," she said, focusing her best wide-eyed look at Taavi. She'd been working on it for deca-phoebs. It wasn't perfect yet because it didn't work on big sister Darja, but she'd figure out what she was missing later. Right now, she needed it to work on Taavi.

"But I'm scared," she said. She added a little sniffle to make Taavi believe her.

Ran looked at her strangely. "What?" he said. "No you're not."

She elbowed him in the stomach just like Lance taught her to do during rough housing.

"Yes I am," she said in her best innocent voice. "Can you give me a hug?" She made her eyes as huge as the waves outside. "Please?"

She saw Taavi frown and pick at his lip with his fingers. His green eyes glanced back at the sea and Alve unleashed her secret weapon.

"I'll let you pet him," she said, holding out her quintessence pet.

Instantly, Taavi darted over and hugged her quick and tight. Then he let go and began playing with her pet.

"Like it?" she asked, watching her pet flap its wings and wrap its long tail around her littlest brother's arm. "Ran and I made it."

Taavi's eyes grew impossibly wide. "You guys made this?" he breathed. "Wow."

Ran puffed out his chest and propped his fists on his hips. "Well, I actually made it. Alve just designed it."

"Hey!" she snapped angrily. "I put just as much effort into this as you. I just don't go around bragging about it," she said haughty, tossing her long hair over her shoulder like big sister Darja did when she turned someone down. "Unlike some people," she added gleefully.

Before Ran could reply, Lance blinked back to the dock nearby with Darja, Pidge, and that spooky black hooded almost-Druid person. She knew whoever that person was, they weren’t a Druid. They didn't feel like a Druid. Not like big brother Lance did, or like Keith sometimes did. Then Lance blinked away again.

"You look funny," Taavi said, pointing to the hooded person who tensed.

Alve snickered but smiled proudly when big sister Darja kneeled next to her and nuzzled her. _:Proud. Well done. Love.:_ Alve smiled and nuzzled back.

"Look, I don't mean to be rude, but Keith didn't get the chance to finish explaining. What's a Breeder and why did she look like Allura?" Pidge asked.

The Witch of Altea?! Alve felt Taavi cling tighter to her and, although she'd never admit it, Alve held him just as tightly. Even Ran inched closer to her. Big sister Darja stood, planting herself between Alve and her siblings and Pidge.

"I listened to what you had to say," Darja hissed, "but they haven't. You will not speak that name here. Is that understood, interloper?"

Pidge flinched and opened her mouth to reply when Lance blinked back with Keith by his side. They appeared between Darja and Pidge.

"Is everyone here?" Lance asked, looking around at each of them.

"Yeah," Pidge answered. "Just one thing. How are we going to get to the Green Lion from here?"

"I'll call the Blue Lion," Lance said. "But first, I need to call the Myr. Blade of Marmora," he said, aiming a sharp glare at the hooded figure.

What was a blade of marmaroo? That sounded weird.

"If you want to stay alive," Lance said, "then do not interrupt me or approach the water until you are told to. I won't be held responsible for anything that happens if you break that rule."

The hooded figure nodded.

"Pidge” Lance added. "That goes for you too. The Myr are dangerous and just as suspicious of outsiders as my people are. They'll sooner eat you than look at you."

The Myr? She'd get to see the Myr? For real!?

"What?" Pidge asked in confusion. "What do you mean 'eat' me?"

"He means that literally," Keith said. "Trust me."

"Can I see them?" Alve called excitedly.

"When big brother Lance says you can," Darja said, resting a hand on Alve's hair. "Just be patient. He has to call them first."

"Duh, Alve," Ran mumbled, elbowing her in the side. She elbowed him back and Taavi snickered.

When she looked up again, Lance was kneeling by the edge of the dock getting splashed by the waves and making a weird, warbling sound through his hands. He made another warbling sound. Then, he turned back to the dock.

"Keith, stay here and make sure they," he nodded to Pidge and the hooded person, "don't do anything stupid. I'll be right back."

Keith nodded. "And if anyone comes?"

Lance's eyes narrowed. "If they're a Breeder, kill them on sight. If not, just hold them back."

Keith drew his knife and another thing from his belt. The other device glowed red then extended into a red and white sword.

"Woah!" Ran cried. "Do that again!"

Then Lance dove into the angry sea.


	55. Florona

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lance seeks help, Keith witnesses something he wishes he hadn't, and Taavi is accepted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** Hello. Sorry for the temporary hiatus. It wasn't intentional. I got inspired to write _Foxfire_ and had to push that out while I could. Then life drop-kicked me. Long story short, my car was broken into and ransacked last Saturday while parked in a church parking lot. I never keep anything of value in my car for that very reason, but the thief(ieves) did take my emergency cash and some earrings that look gold but aren't. After they busted open a window and bashed my doors in with a brick. 
> 
> So I've been dealing with insurance and police on top of my thesis and work this past week. I had two good cries and finally got the strength to take a mental health day. Thus I'm writing for fun now. I feel thrilled. Especially now that I binge-watched Season 6 of VLD and _oh shit guys I have FEELINGS HELP! _Also, I seem to have called several things in this fic that ended up happening one way or another in canon and I'm both surprised and impressed. Keith's dog is _precious_ and will absolutely make an appearance in this.__
> 
>  
> 
> __  
> _All that said, here's chapter 56. We should be getting off Vuana within the next two chapters. It depends on how long it takes to write everything. ^^;_  
> 

The first gulps were always the worst. It was one thing to change his body so it would more readily accept water instead of air. It was something else entirely in practice. It felt like he was drowning.

He had to fight past the instinctual mental resistance claiming that his body was _not_ meant to breathe _water_ and then _breathe water._ The first gulp tended to be mildly painful as his brand new gills twitched into use. Every gulp of water after that was easier. He had to resist respirating through his nose and only do it through his mouth.

After the initial hesitance to adapt to his aquatic form, Lance began swimming. He made a oscillating warble that traveled swiftly through the water. He could already see movement from the shadowy depths below. A sweep of his arms and he noticed the tattoo was glowing brighter the deeper he swam. Good.

A streak of bright red and yellow caught his eye and Lance warbled again, twisting his body towards the Myr. The answering call was everything he wanted to hear. Florona darted up to him, swirling around his in a whirlpool of red and yellow and trills. Pink tipped white feelers swept up his body from the tips of his fingers to the tips of his toes, nuzzling the tattoos on his skin when they touched.

The contact didn’t bother Lance. He spun around in the water to follow the Myr’s movements and look down where Florona’s head was by his feet. Oh, well, the ocean’s surface was actually behind Florona so technically that meant he was looking up not down. It was easy to forget which direction was up and which was down in the dark water. It didn’t usually matter unless he needed to surface for some reason.

Florona trilled punctuated by a series of clicks drawing Lance’s attention once more. Her solid ebony eyes gleamed in the storm darkened sea as she slithered through the water. Her sinuous tail looped around his legs as she nuzzled him, her feelers brushing Lance’s scales. The sudden rush of sensation was like opening the floodgates.

_:Podmate. Welcome. Missed you. Stay? Play?:_

There was more, so much more, but Lance couldn’t cognitively follow every single nuance of Florona’s mental messages. The Myr were much more reliant on empathy and touch telepathy than the Vuana. There would always some things that were missed. Even an Oceanborne with a dozen Myr pod tattoos could have trouble following every strand of thought. But that didn’t stop them from trying.

_:Missed you. Love. Fear. Young. Oceanborne. Podless. Breeders coming. Help. Please?:_

He drew memories of his siblings to the forefront of his mind, funneling his love and fear for them to his podmate. The familiar tickle he knew was her mind brushed every memory, locking curiously on the image of Taavi’s leaf green eyes, the same shade as his tiny scales. Carefully, she sorted through each memory he presented to her and some she drew up herself.

As the the head of her pod, Florona knew Lance like few ever could. She was the mother he couldn’t remember. When she chose him and accepted him into her pod, she had done something much like this and _knew_ him. Everything he ever thought, ever felt, everything he was, she _knew._ And she accepted.

So when she drew a particular memory of little Taavi playing with Keith, he didn’t think anything of it. However, when she focused on Keith rather than Taavi, he couldn’t hide his curiosity. He couldn’t hide anything from Florona. He could feel her fascinated _:Mate?:_ and blushed deeply. His body still ached from… everything. And Florona _knew_ and she was so pleased. Pleased and worried.

 _:Protect. Vulnerable. Young will-be-podmate. Breeder dares. Hunger. Prey.:_ Then she retreated back to her own mind, releasing Lance from her influence. She would help so long as Lance promised to remove the Red Lion from Uryd. Since that was what he intended from the beginning, Lance had no problem with his pod-leader’s stipulation.

All of the Myr were eager to get the Red Lion out of their waters. Fire and water could and did coexist on Vuana, but they clashed as often as they meshed. ...meshed… Head out of the trench, Lance. Now was not the time. ...even though it would have been if Pidge and that stupid Blade of Marmora hadn’t shown up.

Yes. He was holding a grudge. Who’s asking?

Florona reached the surface a few ticks before Lance. Taavi’s awed gaze was the first thing he saw. Ran and Alve were still by Darja’s side but they quickly ran up to the edge of the dock, staring at Florona in amazement. Even Keith joined them despite his newfound wariness of the Myr.

“Lance,” Keith called. “That was fast.”

Not wanting to lose his gills and go through that unpleasant shift again if he didn’t have, Lance kept his throat underwater and didn’t speak. He did, however, beckon Keith closer, waiting patiently for his Chosen to get close enough.

Finally, Keith reached the edge of the dock and knelt so he was within Lance’s reach. Gripping the wooden dock, Lance held his watery breath and pulled himself up out of the water so he could brush his scale against Keith’s cheek sending _:Watch. Protect. Wait. Trust her. Florona. Be back. Blue Lion. Bringing Red Lion. Coming.:_

Before he could sink back into the water, Keith caught Lance’s cheek, deliberately brushing his other scale with his thumb and planting a quick kiss on his other cheek. _:Sexy. Waiting. Hurry. Trust. Cute fishie. Mermaid.:_

...Lance wasn’t a fish… He sank back into the water and flashed Keith a disgruntled glower. Dear ‘Verse, that answering smile lit up Keith’s entire face. Lance was so weak. The water was getting a bit warm. That was the only reason why he let himself sink deeper into the water. The _only_ reason.

Florona’s tail tapped one of Lance’s legs and he glanced at her curiously. She ducked back underwater briefly to swim circles around him, trilling a jovial song that his submerged ears could still hear. Then her tail smacked his behind and he flailed in surprise, splashing the water and slapping his hands on the dock.

Keith squawked, flinching back when water splashed in his eyes but he didn’t back away. He just glared mildly at Lance who was definitely blushing now. Knowing exactly what she did and not feeling any remorse for her actions whatsoever, Florona surfaced once more. But instead of teasing Lance any further, she ignored her podmate’s disgruntled scowl and drifted towards where Taavi knelt on the dock.

Leaf green eyes locked on her bright red and yellow appearance with a child’s wonder. Florona’s tail looped around Lance’s legs, her fins flattened against his damp skin. She ducked her head back under the water and chirped before releasing him. She would stay while he retrieved the Lions.

Lance wanted to stay. But a deal was a deal and as long as he was in the water, Florona commanded him as was her right as his pod-leader. Humming in reply, Lance dove back beneath the surface and swam as fast as he could. The sooner they escaped Vuana, the sooner his little family would be safe and they could continue working on removing Zarkon from power.

* * *

“Woah.”

Keith agreed wholeheartedly. The last Myr he saw and interacted with had been shades of blue fit to blend in with the underwater currents. She had been fascinating but mysterious. This Myr, however, was anything but subtle in her colors. Vibrant red and yellow splotches decorated her scaly skin. She couldn’t blend in with the water if she tried. She almost looked like a tropical fish from Earth.

Keith was fascinated and awed, but also wary. He kept one eye on the Myr’s closed mouth and another on Pidge and the children. Lance told him to trust the Myr and he did, with some reservations. He wasn’t going to ignore his survival instinct after all. He wasn’t sure what to make of the way the Myr was gazing at Taavi or the way Taavi was gazing back at her.

He had only been among the Vuana for a few days. Even with Lance’s guidance, that was nowhere near enough time learn the nuances of the Vuana-Myr relations. So he kept his silence and waited and watched.

_Trust her. Florona._

Keith remembered Lance mentioning that name the other day. So this was Florona.

Movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention and he lifted his right arm, active bayard blade in hand. “Don’t move,” he said, keeping his voice calm and steady.

“I just want a closer look.”

Pidge. Of course.

“She’s pretty.”

Crap. The kids too.

“Ran, stay with me.”

Good. Darja had the kids handled for now. That still left tall, dark, and creepy.

Warily, Keith glanced back at the creepy guy -what did Lance call the dude again? Blade of momma-somethin’- to be sure he hadn’t moved. He hadn’t. Actually, the guy with the glowing mask hadn’t moved at all since Lance first dove into the sea. He just stood there staring…

At Keith.

Not creepy at all.

A soft gasp jerked his attention back to Taavi and the Myr. Florona had pulled herself further out of the water and pressed her fuzzy looking antennae against Taavi’s scales. The boy didn’t look like he was in pain. In fact, he looked amazed and positively joyful.

“What’s going on?” Pidge asked, wisely keeping her voice low.

Movement in the corner of his eye made Keith glance back to see Darja squat down, a firm hand around both Ran and Alve. She was smiling proudly which eased Keith’s nerves.

“She’s offering him a place in her pod,” Darja said.

“Her what?” Pidge muttered in confusion.

“Her pod,” Darja said. “She’s the leader of Lance’s pod.”

Pidge frowned. “Yeah, that makes no sense.”

“Later Pidge,” Keith said.

Her light brown eyes settled on him warily, but she thankfully didn’t press. Something about talking during this just didn’t feel right. It felt disrespectful somehow. Fortunately -or unfortunately depending on how he looked at it- because Keith was looking in Pidge’s general direct, he noticed the first transport ship descend from Yggdrasil’s branches towards the dock.

“We’ve got incoming,” he said, getting to his feat and hefting his blades. “Darja, keep Ran and Alve back,” he said, not bothering to check to be sure the Vuana obeyed. “Pidge,” he continued, “get your bayard ready. Don’t hit to kill until we _know_ they’re Breeders. And you,” he glared at Glowing Mask, “no one gets past us. That clear?”

There was a beat of silence, before the black and dark purple hooded figure nodded. “Understood,” he said, drawing his own short knife.

Keith’s eyes flickered to the knife in approval, then lingered in shock. It wasn’t the same shape or length as his own, but the symbol glowing a soft violet was identical. How…? The mechanical whir of the transport ship became audible over the low roar of the sea snapping Keith back to the here and now. Right. He’d ask later.

Even though he wanted to ask _now_.

“Declare yourself!” he shouted, deliberately turning away from Glowing Mask’s eerily familiar knife to face to oncoming vehicle. There were two Vuana visible over the transport’s dashboard, their hair whipping in the open air. Please don’t be Breeders. Please don’t be-

“Dodge!” he cried, ducking and rolling to the side as a dark bolt of violet tinted black flashed out from one of the Vuana’s hands. The bolt struck right where he’d been standing an instant earlier, sending sparks flying on contact.

The children screamed and hid behind their older sister’s skirts. Keith had no doubt Darja knew how to handle herself, but that didn’t mean he was going to let those bastard Breeders anywhere close to her if he could help it. He heard Taavi whimper from his left followed by a splash. If that Myr just left them when she could be of use, Keith was going to be even more pissed off than he already was.

The transport swerved briefly out over the open water so one of the Vuana could safely leap from the ship onto the dock. Keith got to his feet and hefted his bayard blade, ready to slash the bastard in two. He never got the chance.

Before the Breeder could land, water splashed and colors flashed. In the span it took Keith to blink, Florona leapt from the angry sea, soaring high into the air, her powerful, colorful tail wriggling and her bright arms reaching. The Breeder’s eyes widened and he had just enough time to start a terrified scream before claws ripped into his flesh and razor sharp teeth bit mercilessly into his neck.

The Myr fell back into the sea with her bloody prize, shrieking around the blood and flesh in her mouth. She splashed back into water, sinking below the surface with her prey leaving a pool of blood red water swirling on the surface.

Then the water foamed with the motion of fins and flippers and tails and colors. Myr. Lots of Myr. They moved too swiftly and fluidly to make out their exact number, but Keith thought he could count at least five individual Myr in the crimson froth. With a sinking stomach, he finally realized what he was seeing. A feeding frenzy.

Another Myr launched herself up into the air, her colors just as bright as Florona’s but in shades of green and yellow. Her claws reached for the transport but missed when the Breeder piloting it raised the nose and climbed sharply, increasing the engine power to maximum. She fell back to the water with a furious scream that grated mercilessly at Keith’s ears.

Two more Myr soared into the air, reaching and shrieking, while others lurked just below the water’s surface gorging themselves and circling in anticipation. But it seemed they would only have one meal tonight. Good. Keith wasn’t sure he could take another sight like that.

“My God,” he heard Pidge whisper.

He heard his own fear reflected in her voice. At least he wasn’t surprised. Terrified and sickened, yeah. _Oh yeah._ But not surprised. Lance warned him, had told him exactly what the Myr do to any Breeder who wandered too close to the water. Keith believed Lance, but he wasn’t ready to actually _see_ it firsthand. It took everything he had to not start dry heaving.

The motion beneath the surface eased then ceased completely. The Myr must be sated. Ah shit. Don’t think about it, Keith. Don’t think about it.

Then Florona appeared once more, her beautiful countenance marred by the crimson speckles of what Keith knew was blood on her cheeks and around her mouth. She trilled softly in a nonthreatening manner, calling.

Darja hadn’t moved from where she crouched, Ran and Alve held close to her breast, her hands covering their eyes. Her own midnight gaze was hard and fierce as any mother watching a potential predator suffer for threatening her children. She was frigid and pitiless and Keith swore to never get on her bad side. Ever. No matter what the cost.

Still kneeling by the edge of the dock, Taavi’s sea-green eyes were wide with horror and glistened with tears. Keith made a move to approach when a sharp look from both Darja and Florona stopped him cold. Swallowing, he stayed where he was and waited. The Myr made another soft trill sound and moved effortlessly through the water towards Taavi.

“What is that _thing_ going to-”

“Don’t,” Keith hissed, catching Pidge’s arm and stopping her before she could get too close. “She won’t hurt him.”

“Won’t-” The Green Paladin’s eyes were huge and terrified and angry. “She- Those _things_ just _ate_ that person and you’re telling me she won’t hurt that kid?!” she cried.

Keith tightened his grip on Pidge’s arm. It probably hurt but neither of them acknowledged it. “I warned you,” he said simply. “Don’t approach the water unless you have to or you’re given permission.”

“She could _eat_ him!” Pidge snapped. “I’m not going to let you-”

“She won’t,” Darja said, her voice cold and firm. “You do not know our ways, stranger. Do not presume you do.”

Pidge aimed her fear-fueled anger at the Vuana woman. “That _thing-”_

“The Myr are our allies, stranger,” Darja said. Her voice was calm and left no room for argument. “Keep your opinions out of what you do not understand.”

“I know you don’t like it Pidge,” Keith said quietly when he felt his friend shivering in his grasp. “I don’t like it either. But Darja’s right. You don’t understand what’s going on.”

“Oh, and you do?” Pidge hissed.

Keith met his friend’s gaze and sighed. He knew what Pidge was feeling. Hell, he felt the same way most likely. But he had a better grasp of the situation. He didn’t understand it completely, but he accepted it.

He trusted Lance.

“I know who the enemies are,” Keith said, returning his gaze to Taavi and the Myr.

The little Vuana boy appeared enraptured by Florona despite the bloody massacre that had occurred before his very young eyes. Florona’s Myr had been vicious with the Breeder, but with Taavi she was gentle, almost maternal. Her claws were retracted and she kept her teeth mostly hidden behind her lips. Her unblinking eyes held Taavi’s sea-green captive as she trilled what sounded like a lullaby.

The water around her rippled as Florona swished her powerful tail, forcing her body up out of the water and onto the dock in one smooth motion. She never stopped trilling as she wrapped her long, sinuous tail around the little Oceanborne Vuana like a coiling snake. Her water-slick arms encircled Taavi’s shoulders in a loose embrace as she leaned down to brush her antennae against the boy’s scales once more.

“He is ours now,” Florona purred, leaning back and pulling Taavi to her formless bosom. “My pod wishes to welcome our newest youngling.” Her obsidian gaze turned to Darja’s. “Will you allow this Mother-by-heart?”

“I will,” Darja said, getting to her feet.

Ran and Alve stood silently by her sides clutching her skirts and not quite hiding from the Myr’s inhuman gaze. The small ampithere robeast chirped from its perch on Alve’s shoulders drawing Florona’s attention. Her pupiless eyes widened then narrowed.

“Ah,” Florona sighed. “We see. You have much to protect, Mother-by-heart.” Her tail slapped the water. “You will have our aid, should you wish it. We do not take harm to our pod lightly.” She smiled, revealing the sharp, needle-like teeth dyed red by blood and torn flesh.

“Your aid is welcome,” Darja said, bowing respectfully.

A low thrum echoed from the water drawing all of their gazes. Florona frowned and made a high-pitched scream punctuated by several clicks and slap of her tail on the water. A lyrical call was her reply followed by a trill.

“You are wise to seek the water, Mother-by-heart,” Florona said. “But your people should keep the shield up for a while yet. The water has become… unsafe.”

“Plaxum said that too,” Keith said, finding the courage to speak up.

The Myr’s ebony gaze darted to her thoughtfully. “Did she?” She allowed herself to sink lower onto the dock, flicking one of Taavi’s scales with her antennae in a playful manner before beginning to uncoil. “There is something beyond the shield,” she continued. “Something we are unfamiliar with. The Oceanborne know of this threat. The will speak of it if they have not already.”

“What is it?” Keith asked.

“We do not know,” Florona hissed, the faintest hint of frustration giving her voice a hissing dangerous edge. “It is a serpent unlike any we have encountered before.” She clicked harshly. “It feasts on Vuana and Myr alike.” A hiss. “It is not from this world.”

She broke off suddenly and stared at the sea. Her toothy smile stretched across her face once more, but there was no threat this time. Only triumph.

“Our podmate returns,” she purred, running long, clammy fingers through Taavi’s light brown hair.

A moment later, the sea surface convulsed, sloshing over the dock and soaking them all. The Blue Lion had arrived.


	56. Sonic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lance gets to show off, gains new passengers, and realizes he will do _anything_ to protect his home, something Blue wholly agrees with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** I... I have no excuse. I've had this chapter half written for months, but thesis work, actual job work, new fic ideas, and real life all seemed dead set on distracting me. I finally forced myself to sit down on my butt and finish this. Sorry again for the delay. I promise I haven't given up on this. Just a short hiatus because life. I'm mostly back now. My thesis is due November 5, no exceptions. So yeah...
> 
> Y'all know the drill. I've given this a rough edit now, but I'll seriously edit it tomorrow. Night and enjoy~

Blue was a wake angel. She was perfect and beautiful and Lance would fight anyone who implied otherwise. A deep-throated purr echoed in his mind and the cockpit. Lance grinned and pushed Blue’s controls forward so she swam smoothly up through the ocean to the surface. She was so very pleased with herself. She should be.

However, Lance doubted the Red Lion was pleased with the whole situation. At least the Red Lion wasn’t struggling. Although Lance would bet every ache in his body right now that Red would never let Keith hear the end of this venture. He snickered.

When Blue broke through the surface, Lance didn’t wait for the pilot seat to move back on its rails to the back room. He jumped up and ran out into Blue's open mouth, gripping one of her metallic teeth to keep from falling into the water. Not that he would mind since he was dripping wet still, but he wasn’t in the mood to shift back to his gills if he didn’t have to.

The Red Lion’s head surfaced by the Blue Lion’s paws, much to Blue’s vocal amusement. Red dropped her chin on the dock and opened her mouth expectantly, wanting her paladin inside so she could get out of the water as fast as she could. Lance turned his gaze to Keith and snickered at the flushed annoyance on his Chosen’s face. Red must be making her disagreement with the situation _very_ clear. Just like Lance knew she would.

“Wow!” Ran gasped, staring at the two huge mechanical Lions with wide gray eyes.

Alve broke free from Darja’s grasp and ran up to her big brother. “Did you make that?” she asked excitedly. “How long did it take? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“First of all,” Lance said, stepping from Blue's mouth to the dock and scooping his little sister into his arms, “Blue is a _she.”_ He tapped Alve playfully on the nose. “And no, I didn’t make her. But she loves compliments. Flattery will get you just about everywhere with her.”

Lance pecked his sister on the cheek drawing a blushing giggle from the little girl. Turning to everyone else on the dock, Lance’s smile faded. Darja was staring at the two Lions with fearful black eyes. She turned to Lance as if seeing him for the first time.

“What have you done?” she whispered.

Lance swallowed heavily and looked away. Florona warbled a welcome to him, swishing her lovely tail. From her damp embrace, Taavi turned his head and smiled at Lance. Striding across the wood, Lance knelt by Florona’s side and leaned close so she could brush her antennae against his scales. Then he nuzzled his little brother.

“You like this, Taavi?” Lance asked softly.

Sandy hair bobbed enthusiastically. “She said I could get a tattoo like yours,” he declared, holding up his bare arm with pride.

“Did she?” Lance said, shifting Alve so she was settled more comfortably on his hip. “Then I’ll be sure to get everything together. We can do it as soon as we’re safe. How ‘bout that?”

Taavi nodded. Cool, damp fingers brushed Lance’s scale and _:Leaving? Hurry. Others will come.:_ flowed into his mind from Florona. He sent back _:Thank you. Must protect. Will return. Pod-leader. Adore.:_

The Myr chirped, batting Lance’s thigh gently with her tail and retreated back into her own mind. Slowly, she unwound her tail from Taavi’s small body so the boy could latch onto his big brother.

Alve, however, was not pleased. She put her hand on her little brother’s head and pushed him back. “Eww, you’re wet,” she declared.

“So am I,” Lance said, winking at his sister with a teasing smile. Alve wrinkled her nose at him.

“We still have a problem,” Keith said from his new place by the Red Lion’s mouth ramp. He waited until everyone looked at him before pointedly lifting his gaze to the shimmering cells separating them from the weather and ashfall outside. “The shield is still up. And I don’t know about you, but I don’t think we should lower it right now.”

Lance stared up at the glittering shield and bit his lip. Keith was right. They had no way of getting out without deactivating the shield. He wouldn’t dare do that. It would be too dangerous. The risk of bringing harm to the innocents taking refuge in Yggdrasil was too high. Now with the mysterious serpent stalking somewhere where they couldn’t see…

No. Lowering the shield was not an option.

“Wait a second.” Keith abruptly turned to Pidge and the Blade of Marmora. “How did y’all get in here?”

Pidge smirked and crossed her arms proudly. “We managed to open a small hole in the shield and swim through,” she said. A quick glance at Lance’s horrified expression had her waving her hands in a calming manner. “Don’t worry. The hole sealed right behind us. It was like holding a stick in a waterfall.”

“Lance.”

He glanced at Darja and grimaced. This was not going to be easy. “I can’t leave them here,” he said quietly. “You know what will happen to them.”

His sister’s dark eyes flashed. “I’ll protect them,” she swore.

“But you can’t fight what you don’t see coming,” Lance argued.

“We’ve survived just fine while you were gone,” she countered, her expression softening when she saw her words sting. “I can protect them.”

“It isn’t you I doubt,” Lance said wearily, holding Taavi and Alve close and gazing at Ran who still clung to Darja’s skirts. “A Breeder already knows about them.” The color in Darja’s face vanished. “I know her.  She…” There really was no easy way to say this. “She knows who I am, by name. She was one of my Masters. She knows they’re _my_ siblings,” he said, squeezing Alve and nodding to Ran, “and she _let_ me go. If I don’t take this chance, she will come back and she will take them.”

Darja narrowed her eyes and grit her teeth. She looked at the Blue Lion by Lance and the Red Lion by Keith then at Pidge and the Blade of Marmora. Florona flipped her tail, splashing it back into the water and drawing Darja’s attention. Lance watched his sister approach the Myr, careful to keep Ran within touching distance, and crouch so she was at eye level with Florona. She leaned close and allowed Florona’s antennae to touch her scales.

For several ticks, nothing happened. Then Florona withdrew with a trill and arched neatly back into the water leaving Darja alone. She swallowed thickly and furrowed her brow before turning her head to Lance. Without a word, she stood and pulled Lance into a hug, deliberately nuzzling his scales with her own.

_:Brother. Family. Trust. Protect. Will come. Return?:_

Lance couldn’t hug back with his arms full of inquisitive children, but he did sigh and return her nuzzle with his own. _:Sister. Family. Trust. Thank you. Definitely return. Vuana. Home. Always return home.:_

“Get everyone in the Blue Lion,” he said, leaning back and handing Alve to Darja. “I’ll join you shortly.”

Her lips pressed into a thin, grim line as she tucked Alve on her hip and tugged both Ran and Taavi behind her as she hurried into the Blue Lion’s gaping maw. She hesitated briefly to gaze up at the gigantic metal teeth before disappearing from view.

“Pidge, did you come here in the Green Lion?” Keith asked. She nodded. “Lance, can you teleport her there?”

Shaking his head, Lance sighed. “Not without knowing exactly where it is, what it looks like, and how far away it is,” he said.

“It’s on the bottom of the ocean on the other side of the shield,” Pidge said helpfully. “Could you teleport us through the shield? We could go the rest of the way on our own.”

“I could,” Lance said slowly, eyeing the angry sea beyond the shimmering particle barrier. “But you’ll be on your own after that.”

“That’s fine,” the green paladin said readily. “We were fine before.”

“You didn’t know about the serpent,” Lance said. Neither did he, but that was for later. “When I drop you there, get yourself and the Blade into your Lion as fast as you can. We’ll figure out what to do with the shield after that.”

“We can always just hack it again,” Pidge said, walking closer to Lance with the still silent Blade behind her. “It shouldn’t be that hard.”

But Lance was already shaking his head. “I doubt you’ll be able to open a hole large enough for us to get through,” he said, “and I’m nowhere near powerful enough to teleport my Lion let alone mine _and_ Keith’s.” He bit his thumb nail as he tried to hold back his panicked mind.

_:Lance? Worry? Friend.:_

Startled, Lance looked down at his feet and saw a tiny, familiar fluffball scamper across the dock from Yggdrasil’s trunk to his foot. Chulatt? By the ‘Verse, Lance had been so worried he’d completely forgotten about his friend.

 _:Sorry. Well? Hiding? Why?:_ he sent his friend. His connection stuttered a bit without direct contact, but he was sure the mouse got the gist of the message.

The Blade of Marmora stiffened in surprise when he saw the mouse climb up Lance’s clothes to snuggle up by his neck. Lance felt a soft smile tug his lips despite his concern and he lifted a finger to scratch at the tuft of blue fur on Chulatt’s head.

_:Fish-Human scary. Chulatt food. Scared.:_

Lance snorted. Florona wouldn’t eat Chulatt. Pick her teeth with him maybe, but that’s it. Chulatt squealed hurting Lance’s ears and hid in his hood, curled up at the back of his neck. With a snicker, Lance scooped up the little mouse and set it on one of the Blue Lion’s metal teeth.

_:Inside. Safe. Dry. Wait for me.:_

The mouse gave him a tiny salute before scurrying down the metal and up the ramp into Blue’s cockpit. Little guy was fast.

“Alright you two,” Lance said, turning to Pidge and the Blade of Marmora. “You have what you need to swim that deep?” They nodded. “Good. Now, Pidge, this may not be pleasant for you, but just know it’s less pleasant for me.” She looked suspicious. “Imagine where you left the Green Lion. The view outside the cockpit viewscreen, any distinct features. Think of them right now.”

She eyed him oddly but her forehead creased in concentration. Without waiting for her to question what he was doing, Lance knelt and pressed one of his eye scales against her cheek. He heard her soft gasp of surprise, but it was drowned out by _:Water. Shield. Sand. Fish. Green. The comfortable pilot’s seats. Control panel. Dashboard. Green’s playful nudges.:_

At that, Lance retreated. He only wanted a clear image, not anything personal. At least Pidge had given him a good view of the Green Lion’s cockpit. That may make things easier. He could teleport them straight into the cockpit instead of into the water nearby. It wasn’t a perfectly clear image since she didn’t have eye scales, antennae, or a deep connection like Lance had with Keith, but it good enough. He’d been forced to work with less before. Leaning back, he stood and placed one hand on her shoulder and one on the Blade of Marmora’s.

“Whatever you do, do not move,” he said, then teleported.

They reappeared in what looked like the Green Lion’s cockpit. Thank the ‘Verse that worked. Lance had been a bit worried. But hhey were in a rush so he didn’t linger.

“Start trying to find a way to get through the shield _without_ lowering it,” he said. “But keep an eye out for an unwelcome visitor. The waters aren’t safe right now.”

“Implying they were before,” Pidge grumbled. “Wai-”

He teleported back to the Blue Lion’s cockpit, safe from Pidge’s questions, the Blade’s silent stares, and that much closer to getting his family to safety. He could already tell this wasn’t going to be easy.

Wrapping his hands around the controls, he piloted the Blue back from the dock and into the water. Florona and several of her podmates were swimming curious circles around Blue’s paws, their unblinking eyes staring up at Blue’s glowing golden eyes. Lance smiled and dove the Blue Lion into deeper water.

He felt her roar in excitement as they moved effortlessly through the ocean. He turned Blue’s head and snickered when he saw the Red Lion pawing through the water like a flailing Earthborne child in the shallows. He couldn’t resist the temptation and opened a secure channel.

“You’re so graceful, Keith,” he called, his voice dripping in sugary sweetness.

 _“You’re an ass,”_ Keith’s annoyed voice replied through the link. _“Red is not happy about this.”_

“She’s just jealous of Blue’s grace and perfection,” Lance replied, pushing the controls forward and propelling the Blue Lion towards the shield.

She really was moving much smoother now than she had when they first crash landed here. Huh. Now there was a thought. If the Blue Lion was blue quintessence which was closely tied to water and ice, then maybe the reason why Blue was more recovered than the Red Lion was due to the greater exposure to her element. Snow was still technically water, after all.

“Lance?”

Glancing over his shoulder, his amusement faded somewhat. Darja stood there, here black eyes wide and staring through the Blue Lion’s viewscreens in awe. Alve, Ran, and Taavi peered around her legs as well.

“You might want to hold on,” Lance said, turning his focus back to the viewscreens. “Blue has fantastic inertial dampeners but even she can’t block out everything.”

A ping accompanied by a blue square appeared on his display. Zooming in, he grinned when he saw the Green Lion’s form hovering in the water on the opposite side of the shimmering blue-tinged gold shield. Green’s mouth was open and Pidge in her green and white armor was fiddling with one of the main control arms of the shield.

This was it. Lance bit his lip. They only wanted to get out, not lower the shield completely. However much he wanted to get his family to safety, he didn’t want to jeopardize the safety of his entire race. The Vuana were strong, but they weren’t undefeatable.

Come on, Pidge. She could do this. If anyone could figure out how to do this, she could. The Green Lion’s paladin was a fount of curiosity and intellect. Lance trusted her.

And it seemed that trust was well placed, no surprise. The shield flickered and he could almost hear the harmonic tones it was probably making just as a hole opened up. The hexagonal pieces of this section vanished one by one until the hole was just big enough for him to slip through.

“You first Keith,” Lance called, twitching and glancing down to see Chulatt crawling up his sleeve to nestle in his hood against his neck. “I’ll take the rear. I’m faster in the water.”

_“Right.”_

Lance watched as the Red Lion swerved through the water, albeit ungracefully, so it was in front of him and Blue. Red moved through the hole, which began closing because _of course it would!_ Not on Lance’s watch.

Pushing the controls full forward, Lance and Blue sped ahead, crashing into the Red Lion’s hindquarters and forcing both of them through the hole with a tick or two to spare before the hole slammed shut behind them.

 _“What the fuck Lance!”_ Keith shouted, his face appearing in a small window on Lance’s left.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Lance chirped. “Did you want to be cut in half by the shield and seal me inside?” He slapped his chest in mock offense. “And here I thought you liked me.”

Violet eyes blazed in Keith’s stressed face, before they noticed Darja looming behind Lance’s pilot seat. The color drained from Keith’s face and he quickly cut the visual link.

 _“Sorry,”_ he said.

 _“If you two are done flirting,”_ Pidge droned, her visual channel opening and appearing on Lance’s left, _“we need to get back to the Castleship.”_

“Not yet,” Lance said, gripping his controls. “Something out here is eating my people. I’m not leaving until it’s dealt with.”

 _“What?”_ Pidge cried. _“That wasn’t the plan. We have to go now.”_

 _“Lance,”_ Keith said, his face appearing next to Pidge’s, _“as much as I understand how you feel, I have to agree with Pidge here. We don’t know what that thing is or where it is. Even if we did, we have no way of knowing if we can handle it.”_

“We have to,” Lance said, activating the Blue Lion’s scanners looking for any signs of life. “My reason for fighting is my family, my people. If that’s not good enough for you, then go join up with the Castleship and I’ll follow when I’m done here.”

A hand squeezed his shoulder and he set his mouth in a grim line, recognizing his sister Darja’s slender fingers anywhere.

Keith sighed. _“Fine,”_ he said. _“I’m with you. Just know that I’m not going to be moving as quickly as usual.”_

“Don’t mind that at all,” Lance said with a smirk. “Gives me a chance to be the center of attention.”

_“You two are disgusting.”_

Lance rolled his eyes at Pidge’s comment. She was so jealous. Something pinged on the far upper right of his screen. Staring at it, Blue’s electronics locked onto the signature and enlarged it. By the ‘Verse, what _was_ that?

“Blue, turn on the cockpit speakers,” Lance commanded.

 _“Lance? What is it?”_ Keith asked.

“I’m not sure,” he murmured.

There was a soft click as the speakers turned on followed by a steady roar like the engines of the Oceanborne ships. Embedded in the deep roar was an eerie, high-pitched shriek that came at intervals of three ticks. The hand on his shoulder tightened and Lance was very aware of the heavy silence behind him.

_:Fear. Awe. Pretty. Scary.:_

“Are you guys hearing this?” he whispered.

 _“Yeah,”_ Keith replied, sounding awestruck.

 _“It sounds like a pod of whales or something,”_ Pidge said. _“Where’s it coming from?”_

“Sending you the coordinates now,” Lance said, forwarding the location to the Green and Red Lions. “It’s moving fast though. We should be able to see any tick now.”

 _“Weapons ready,”_ Pidge said.

No one spoke after that. Their attention locked on the fast approaching creature. In the darkness of Blue’s cockpit, Lance’s eyes noticed movement before the others. He never had the chance to warn the others. He had just enough time to give a sharp cry of surprise before something lashed out and smacked the Blue Lion aside like a toy.

Gripping the controls, Lance pulled them all the way back towards him to force Blue out of the uncontrollable roll. Righting themselves, Lance and Blue rocketed through the water, firing a beam of blue energy at the wriggling _thing._

 _“What the hell **is** that thing?!”_ Pidge cried, a bolt of blue energy firing from the Green Lion’s mouth too.

“I have no idea,” Lance grunted, raking Blue’s claws over the serpent’s orange scales and ripping apart one of the frilled green fins.

 _“Whatever it is, it’s fast,”_ Keith said. _“I can’t keep up like this.”_

Lance could. Diving down just in time to avoid a sharp whip from the sea serpent’s tail, he blasted the thing. It struck a glancing blow but it got the creature’s attention. Good. Turning tail, Lance pushed the controls full forward and felt Blue speed through the water, the blinking blue alerts warning him the serpent was in hot pursuit.

Whirling abruptly to the left, he pushed Blue into a roll that brought them completely around and fired a beam of ice at the serpent. It struck true, freezing the serpent’s head. The snake wriggled furiously, smashing its tail down on the ice and shattering it. Its head opened revealing four large, toothed flaps that served as its enormous mouth.

“Blessed Encompassing Universe, have mercy!” Darja breathed, clutching on Lance’s chair. By his ear, Chulatt chirped in agreement.

The other two Lions appeared, firing at the distracted serpent giving Lance the chance to fire another ice blast, freezing its jowls open wide. The serpent unleashed a shrill shriek that had Lance and his family wincing at the pitch and intensity. Then it was slithering through the water with ease straight for the Blue Lion.

“Frak,” Lance muttered, turning Blue around and blasting forward. Chulatt squealed at the abrupt move and speed change. Lance's eyes scanned the viewscreen for anything that could be used to-

There! Stone rose up from the sea floor with just a narrow chasm separating them. It was just wide enough for Blue to slip through, but it would be difficult for the serpent to follow. Worth a shot.

Angling down to the chasm, Lance piloted Blue through the water. Coolness washed over him like a wave and suddenly Blue was right there with him, aiding him. He saw through her eyes, moved with her paws, and felt the water stream around them. In the distance, he could hear the muffled conversation of Keith and Pidge through their shared open channel, but they weren’t important. Not right now. All that mattered was Blue, the water, and the chase.

Together, they wove through the chasm, dodging rock outcroppings and the errant fish. They heard the serpent’s shrill roar of frustration as its body failed to maintain the strict control Blue and Lance could pull off and struck the sides of the chasm. As one, Lance and Blue burst free of the chasm into open water and turned sharply around.

The serpent’s advantage was its speed. If they could take that away, the creature would be no match for them. They needed to slow it down. The chasm helped, but although the serpent’s tail was trapped between two protruding rocks, it wouldn’t remain that way for long. Another shrill, ear-piercing shriek and they _knew_ what to do _._

If the monster wanted to fight them with sound, then they’d give it a taste of its own weapon. Icy cold quintessence flooded their senses, sparking along Lance’s skin and Blue’s metallic fur, sluicing through their veins, and filling them with power. It wasn’t quite like when they united with their pridemates to form Voltron, but it was as close as they could get on their own. Vaguely, Lance felt himself breathe a puff of warmth into the frigid air, then he and Blue _roared!_

The serpent dares! It _dares!_ Nothing harms their pride and gets away with it. Nothing. It would suffer. They would _make_ it suffer, together.

As one, they unleashed an onslaught of focused sonic noise at the serpent, throwing off its echo-location and making it writhe in pain. They kept going, roaring and pouring their fury and desperate desire to stand firm, the unmoving glacier in the face of a tsunami. They were ageless, they were water, they were ice, they _were_ and they _always would be._ They were nurturing and they were merciless. None who threatened their own would survive.

None.

This _thing_ had stolen the lives of those they held under their protection. For that, it would pay with its own life. The sea was timeless and took life as often as it gave life. Water was _never_ to be underestimated. Opening their mouth, they roared, encasing the decrepit serpent in a prison of ice. The creature’s pitiful wails were nothing in their ears. Its jowls opened in one last cry of pity and they blasted a beam of blue energy into it, killing it.

They blinked, and saw two as they began to separate. When they were two individuals once more, Lance blinked and shook his head to clear it. Blue purred and nuzzled him, proud and loving and victorious. Their pride was safe because of them. They did well. _He_ did well.

A weak smile stretched across his face as he loosened his white-knuckled grip on Blue’s controls and flexed his fingers. He huffed in breathless laughter, glorying in the joyous victory with Blue. They did it. They won. Their pride, their family was safe.

“It’s dead,” he breathed.

Odd. His voice sounded winded like he’d just run a marathon. Adrenaline was coursing through his body, making his muscles spasm and shake as he drifted from his high.

“It’s dead,” he repeated. “Keith, can you hear me?”

 _“I can hear you.”_ Keith face appeared on the viewscreen. _“Nice ray gun, by the way.”_

Ray gun? Lance’s victorious smile didn’t fade as Blue brought up the schematics and specs of their newest weapon. Oh. Wow. It looked like a ray gun, but it wasn’t. It was actually a sonic cannon that weaponized sound waves powerful enough to kill some life forms. But it wasn’t solely a weapon. According to Blue, it could also be used for a form of echo-location.

Well, well, such a clever, beautiful, creative lady. Blue had so many amazing ideas. And now she was preening and Lance found himself laughing in lightheartedly joy. With this, they could map out Zarkon’s bases without alerting the enemy of their presence or endangering their pridemates _and_ attack if they had to. It wouldn’t be of much use in space without molecules to vibrate, but in any atmosphere or space with enough molecules in close proximity that could be vibrated just right…

_“Lance.”_

Startled out of his thoughts, Lance looked up at Keith who was looking at him strangely. Why was that?

 _“Is that it, do you think?”_ Keith asked.

“Probably,” Lance said, scanning the area once more to be sure. “I’m not detecting any more life forms.”

 _“Neither am I,”_ Pidge said. _“Keith?”_

 _“Nothing.”_ Keith looked back up at Lance and smiled. _“You ready to head back?”_

“Ye-” No. “Yes,” he said.

Chulatt nuzzled him sending _:Sorry. Loss. Home. Not alone.:_ to him through their mental link.

Keith’s smile softened in understanding. _“Then let’s get out of here and meet up with the others. Pidge, you lead the way.”_

_“Roger.”_

Lance took up the rear as the three Lions swam up to the surface then broke free of the water and soared into the air and beyond. He paused long enough to turn and cast one longing look at the sparkling, egg-shaped Shield encompassing Yggdrasil and most of the Vuana. The howling wind and relentless rain from the bands of the storm battered Blue blurring his vision somewhat. But he could never mistake his home.

Beyond that, on the mainland, Surtr continued to erupt. At least the worst was over now, hopefully. He would return home soon. When Zarkon was defeated and Lotor was the new leader of the Galra Empire. When his people were safe.

Blue purred and Darja’s hand on his shoulder squeezed. He would protect his home and his people. He would do whatever it took to do so. Turning Blue’s massive head back up, they climbed through Vuana’s atmosphere and out into space. The stars twinkling in the void of space pinpricks of hope.

 _“I’m forwarding the coordinates of the Castleship to you now,”_ Pidge said. _“Let’s go.”_

Lance incorporated the coordinates into Blue’s flight plan system and blasted after the Green Lions with Red right next to him. They could do this. They had to.


End file.
